Insanity Loves Company
by Lor-tan
Summary: Elizabetha is a sweet little girl who's had a very interesting childhood. In Azkaban. Being raised by people like Sirius Black and Bellatrix Lestrange and a half pixie. A very interesting childhood indeed. But now, she's eleven years old and headed to Hogwarts to study hard and turn her dreams into plans. Possibly plans of world domination. *We're on Hiatus with this one.
1. Six More Days

In a dingy dark cell in Azkaban prison, there was a great deal of screaming happening. Now, that in itself was not unusual, considering it was Azkaban and screams were quite abounding. However, giving birth was not, so this screaming was a bit different.

The not-so-happy-mother-to-be was one Jem Brinks, a witch who had been caught torturing muggles with the cruciatus curse, and thrown into Azkaban shortly thereafter. No one mentioned that the reason she had been torturing the muggle was because he tricked her husband into death. Much like how no one mentioned she was with child when she was tossed into the prison, if anyone knew. So here she was, being assaulted with memories of her dead but still lovely husband and in labor.

About seven hours later she died, still in her cell, but with a wailing baby girl in her arms for the dementors to find.

* * *

A girl walked down a hall, following the chill and empty sucking feeling she knew meant her mother. She was dressed in an over sized Victorian dress that had been torn to a length that fit her and was held to her waist by a piece of cord, and her bare feet were hardened from years of walking down rough stone corridors. Her face was small and pale, as were her eyes, and her honey colored hair hung in thick tangled ringlets, that bounced from side to side as she walked, trailing her pale hand on the bars of a cell as she passed.

"Hello, Sirius." She greeted the black flea-bitten dog within the cell, and he whimpered in reply, begging for company in his misery, making her smile apologetically as she continued down the hall, where she'd continue on to the stairs that would take her to the next cell, and then the next set of stairs, and the next cell, until she reached the top where her mother waited. "Sorry, boy, I have to go. It's time for me to eat." She called back as she started up the roughly hewn steps, and in answer she got another low whine. "I'll bring you a rat later, boy." was the last she said before she disappeared around a curve in the stairs, leaving the dog alone in his corridor.

She passed a few more cells, and greeted each occupant, not matter how insane.

"Hello, Alfred." The dark skinned man howled in response.

"Lovely day, isn't it Madam Barthahew?" The old hag muttered warnings about the wind.

"Good day, Nettle." The half pixie fluttered up close to the bars and called her a cloud.

"Bellatrix, Rudolphus." The man's eyes twinkled with insanity, and his wife screamed.

Finally, she reached the last one, and gave the woman inside a sweet smile. "Mora, greetings." She waved, and the pale skinned woman within waved back, giving her a toothy smile. Mora's tail wagged beneath her skirts, making them move about oddly.

"Elizabetha, what a pleasant surprise." She croaked, coming closer. Elizabetha backed away from the bars. "Going away so soon?" The witch asked her, and she nodded. "Pity."

"Yes, yes it is. Have a nice nightmare, Mora." With that parting, Elizabetha turned and headed for the last set of stairs, and as she started up them she could hear the witch beginning to hum tunelessly to herself.

As she reached the top floor the feeling of cold around her grew, and a sensation like her soul was being pulled out began. Sure enough, there was her mother.

"Ma mere!" She called, and skipped up to the black cloaked figure, throwing her arms around what little was palpable. She had learned the french phrase when Bellatrix had first came, years ago, and still been sane enough to communicate normally. A skeletal hand brushed her back, giving her a horrible sense of loss, and she looked up into the black shroud that served as her mothers face. It was wrinkled and black, with a gaping mouth and sunken cheeks, but no eyes.

"Liz-be-ah..." The dementor rasped, making the sucking feeling grow with it's voice. It was a voice Elizabetha had heard all her life, since she was able to remember. When she had first talked she had mimicked it, rasping her own name like it was a magic word. Then her mother had taught her to say ma, and she had called her that for years until she learned mother from a younger Madam Barthahew and ma mere from Bellatrix. When she started to realize the dark creature couldn't possibly be her mother, and the other dementors her family, she had still called them so, because she didn't know any other words for them, until Mora had told her that they were dementors, and even then she still preferred mother. She didn't know their real names, or if they even had real names, so instead she made them up. The pale one was Mon Cheri, and the smallest was Blue and so on, names like any child would give. Assuming they knew french and wished to refer to soul sucking monsters as "My Darling" in the first place.

"Hello, mother." She greeted, a familiar ache forming on her head as a welcome depression settled over her and her skin beginning to itch comfortingly. Her breath now came out white.

"Late..." Her mother grated, and Elizabetha shrugged.

"Gomen. I stopped for a bavarder with Ms. Mordelia Madalina Mora." It was always fun to say Mora's full name. The dementor hesitated for a moment, then slowly raised a ghostly hand towards a small table set for one in the middle of the room. "Hvala ti, Majka." Elizabetha said before walking over to the table and bowing to it, before sitting in the prepared bench as her mother looked on approvingly, and beginning to eat what was had been served to her, in this case being old canned soup that had probably been expired for years. Not that Elizabetha knew that. Her stomach was vulture like in it's ability to digest by now.

Things had been hard on the dementors at first, suddenly having a human child on their hands. None of them had known how to deal with a prisoner giving birth, and the dementors themselves didn't really have children, new ones just appeared if the environment was right. Yet here was a human babe, and they had had no idea what to do with it. About that time, a mostly sane woman who had two children previous was brought to Azkaban, Mordelia Mora. She had mostly raised the girl, indirectly, giving directions and tips to the dementors but rarely making actual physical contact, because after all, she was only mostly sane, not completely, and you simply do not trust a half crazed women with your adopted child. After she was old enough to walk around without stumbling, and able to speak, or more importantly, run away and scream for help, she was allowed by the other prisoners. Thus she had learned to speak. To speak at least three languages fluently and about seven more enough to have basic introductions and maybe some stilted small talk, and other little terms in many more. And picked up some strange tenancies that the dementors were sure were not quite normal for a human child, but they had written it off as a side effect of being raised around mentally deranged people and left it at that. Because, well, they were dementors, and they never had any problem with mad folks, now did they? So that had been the way Elizabetha was raised, being taught all sorts of odd manners and habits, most of which her environment approved of entirely. If she was going to bow to tables and speak three or more languages within a single conversation, who was to judge?

Once finished, Elizabetha rose and again bowed to the table before also to her mother, then walking primly away, leaving the dementor with an "Arigato" and a "I love you, mother" before heading back down the stairs. She had basked in her mothers presence for long enough, and she knew that the dementor would need to get back to driving people insane soon.

Plus, she had promised to bring Sirius a rat.

So she started down the stairs again. Elizabetha had been running up and down steps since she was little, and that combined with regular meals and six hours of sleep a day made her a fairly healthy child, although she did not look it. Her skin was pale and grey from lack of sunlight, and she had grey circles under her eyes that, in the right lighting, made her look almost dead. On more then one account she had startled aurors when they came to bring new prisoners, because they thought she was perhaps an inferi summoned by one of the many dark wizards within the prison. She still liked to meet them, though, even if she rarely spoke to them. She had learned early on that aurors viewed her relationships with the beings within Azkaban disparagingly, some had even attempted to take her from the prison. And not always with her consent. So she preferred to watch silently when they brought new occupants, and only wave hello if they noticed her. Of course, she always rushed closer to introduce herself to the new prisoner the moment they stepped back, so she never came off quite as standoffish as she would have hoped, but it wasn't as if she could not say hello.

As she passed Mora she waved to the witch, who was currently scratching desperately at the floor. Then there were Bellatrix and her husband, who was sane enough now to greet her in his rough voice, which made her smile, even if he said the wrong name. Nettle trilled at Elizabetha, her crest coming up high and her needlepoint teeth bared in a mischievous grin. A few feet past her cell, Elizabetha caught the desired rat, and held it with a layer of skirt, squirming by the tail. Madam Barthahew cackled as she passed, and when she stepped up to greet Alfred, he screamed at her. Alfred had never much liked her.

When she reached Sirius's cage, the dog rushed up to the bars, and before her eyes he morphed into a human, legs lengthening and face flattening, his shaggy fur growing back into his skin. It looked ghastly, actually, but by the end of it there was a skinny man with filthy hair before her, an insane twinkle in his eye.

"You promised." He said shakily, and Elizabetha nodded.

"That's right, I promised. Here you go." She tossed the still squirming rat through the bars, where it landed with a thump and hardly had time to squeak before Sirius had grabbed it and started tearing it apart with his bare hands, muttering about filthy traitors and justice. When it was no more then a pathetic scrap of torn flesh and bone in his hands he tossed it into a corner, where it joined hundreds of other matching carcasses. Elizabetha had been catching him rats for years. Then with a shuddering breath he turned back to her, and an almost fatherly light entered his eyes, albeit an insane, glassy one.

"So, Lizzy." He said, voice rough with disuse. "How have y-" He broke off and coughed, ragged gasps making his frail body shake before he could continue. "How've you been?" Elizabetha was reluctantly impressed. Sirius, like all the other occupants of the gloomy prison she lived in, never ceased to amaze her with how hard they struggled to continue, despite what the Aurors thought.

"As well as ever. My wounds have all healed," A week ago she had taken a tumble down some stairs, and come away from it with only a a sprained ankle and a split lip and headache. She had soaked her foot in cold water and wrapped it up, and layered cloth under her lip to prevent further bleeding, before continuing her perusal of the halls quite normally, happily ignoring the pounding in her head and the harsh stings of pain in her ankle. "And just in time, too. It's almost my birthday, you know. Six days."

"Is it?" He thoughtfully played with his dirty hair, giving it a small sniff before making a face and dropping the lock back into place. "Should I get you anything? Or really, could I even get you anything?"

"Je ne sais pas. Maybe a new spell? Will you teach me how to become a dog too?"

"Do I look like a mandrake to you?" That statement made absolutely no sense to Elizabetha, so she decided to drop it.

"Ne. Maybe a differant spell? I want to try more singing spells, like Nettle does. She only taught me a few, like **clean as a whistle**." Elizabetha loved how Nettle's magic worked, the way she could sing the right nursery rhymes and make walls crumble. Provided she had some article of jewelry, of course, and a strong enough voice to sing the whole song. Here, in Azkaban, she rarely did. She was sick far too often to sing much.

"Ask her, then!" Sirius giggled, and she shrugged.

"She's not sane enough, recently. She just babbles and shrieks."

"And since when was sanity an issue for you, Lizzy? Look around at where you're being raised!" _He... has a point_ , she concluded.

"Vrlo Dobro, I'll take that under notes. Mata." With that she wondered without further comment back down the corridor, Sirius once again turning into a dog behind her, and howling his own farewell.

On the way down she passed more prisoners, of all sorts, and greeted each by name. Death eaters, werewolves, poor half insane beings who couldn't even remember where they were anymore, and everything in between. Witch, wizard, young, old, human, creature, mixed. It made no difference to Azkaban prison, and therefore made no difference to her. She met with several dementors busy with... whatever dementors did, Elizabetha herself still wasn't sure of all the details, and called hello to each of them. All but two screeched fondly back at her, and the remaining two were rather busy, what with handing out kisses and all, so she left them be and continued on her way.

Not for the first time in her life she internally grumbled about the impracticality of having her rooms in the very belly of the prison and eating all her meals at the top. Yet she eventually reached her destination, two large room at the very pit of the prison. She passed through the first, the one with thousands of strange things and old books perched on the shelves that had been carved into the stone and flat rocks serving as tables containing more carved curiosities and glassy oddities, parchments and papers stacked in thick piles. One wouldn't guess it, but over the years Elizabetha had collected quite the library, down in the pits of Azkaban prison. One of the Aurors brought her books when he came to drop off a prisoner, and often prisoners themselves had a few pages hidden on them.

Then, she stepped into the second. Just like the other, she had not changed in the slightest the rough textures and rock walls of her bedroom, rather adding grotesque decorations, such as a rat skin rug on the floor, courtesy of Serius, and a pretty torn ball gown that one of the death eaters had arrived in, hanging in a corner. Other then those and a few more shelves carved into the walls, stuffed with shards of rock and the occasional bundle of silvery fur, donated by werewolves and Mora, the only items in the room were a pile of filthy dresses, a bedside table, and the bed that went with it, a rough cot just like the prisoners used, and that Elizabetha constantly wondered about. How, exactly, had it even gotten down here? Or any of her things, for that matter? Where had her glass nick-knacks in the other room all come from, the toys the dementors gave her as a child, the rats that had taken over Azkaban in the last five years? It used to be completely devoid of life...

Then, she easily explained it all away, or at least until further notice; She was in Azkaban, nothing could really be that logical.

Six days left to go. Then she would go to the great school Sirius had once told her of, where he had studied little and caused mischief much. From which she had received a letter from weeks ago, telling her what things to bring and where to bring them, along with herself. The magical school of Hogwarts.

* * *

So hopefully that wasn't terrible. I have another chapter written and I'll put it up too if this is well enough liked. I know it's not completely making sense right now, but I'll try to answer any questions along the way, and honestly this isn't really one of those stories that is meant to make complete sense. But you can ask or make a request if anyone wants to. I'm hoping to make this pretty long.

Please review, and feel free to be a total critic, because I'd appreciate anything, honestly. Byeeeeeeee!


	2. Never Underestimate a Pixie

Professor Minerva Mcgonagall was giving the Hogwarts attendance letters one last look over. Hogwarts herself did most of the work, but she always preferred to double check. You never know what you might find. Why, just last year Harry Potter had come back, so obviously surprises could happen, and though she could rarely prevent anything, she could always prepare.

Glancing through, she noticed a particularly odd one. One that was addressed to... Just Elizabetha, no last name, and in Azkaban prison, of all places.

 _Oh well_ , Minerva thought, pulling it out. _Hogwarts probably just got a little confused. Strange, though..._ She set it to the side. A few minutes later, though, she found another, addressed the same. A quick glance to the side ensured that the previous one was still there, so she hadn't just accidentally mixed it back in. She too this one out as well. Yet just moments later, there was another for this "Elizabetha" waiting to be sent...

Minerva gave up, and simply sent this one out with the other letters. Hogwarts knew best, after all.

* * *

Elizabetha sat in front of Nettle's cell, the half pixie inside curled up in a ball close to the bars. In her hands Elizabetha held a plain gold chain, it's gleam only faint from years without care. If she was to believe her dementor mother, it had once belonged to Jem Brinks, her actual mother.

"So, twinkle twinkle little star?" She asked, naming a few of the lullabies she had read about in a children's book an Auror had brought her.

"Light." Nettle replied, before whimpering and curling up tighter. "Or space." Then she craned her neck around, turning it at an angle impossible for a normal human, and looked Elizabetha in the eye. "You're a witch, Elizabetha."

Elizabetha stared at her for a few moments, before smiling gently. "No freaking duh, Nettle." She quipped, and Nettle shook her head at her, despite her odd body angle, another impossible feat that only a pixies strange bodily rules could allow.

"Go to school. Who's Tom?" That was all Elizabetha got out of her before the woman drifted off into fitful sleep, twitching about like she was being shocked. With a sigh Elizabetha heaved herself up and collected the few torn parchments she had brought, wrapping the gold chain tight around her wrist and starting down the steps. She passed Madam Barthahew, who offered her a mysterious lump, which she quite decidedly declined, and Alfred, who, as usual, screamed at her. She really had no idea what his deal was...

A familiar bark made her look up, and she smiled at Sirius as she passed. "Hello, and bye-bye." She told him as she walked past, and he wagged his tail at her before growling at it and sitting down hard, and snapping his jaws about it. _Maybe he thought it was a rat,_ she mused. As she started down more steps his regretful and pained howls echoed after her, loud ghosts of a bad choice.

"Hello, Blue!" She called to a rather smallish dementor in the next corridor, and it rasped greetings to her before bending down to closer observe the twitching body of a young werewolf, easily identifiable by his wide amber eyes and whine of fear. _He's new_ , she observed, pausing to watch as he convulsed again, plagued by no doubt unpleasant memories. She must have missed his arrival while she was talking, or at least trying to talk, with Nettle. _I'll introduce myself_ , she decided. She didn't have to wait long. Blue apparently caught her intentions and shortly left, waving a tattered black sleeve to her before disappearing down the hall, no doubt off to terrify some other poor victim. After a few minutes, the werewolf boy calmed, sitting up with a frightened look on his face. He stared at her, and she grinned at him.

"Wassup kiddo?" She said, and he scrambled backwards on his hands, a frightened expression on his bruised face. _The Auror's probably beat him up some..._ She thought, and walked closer to the bars, making him stop against the back wall of his new cell. He didn't reply, which Elizabetha thought was a bit rude, but she decided to introduce herself anyways.

"Well, if you won't go, then I will. Watashi no namae was Elizabetha de-" She paused seeing the baffled look on his face. _Right. In english this time, then_. "My name's Elizabetha. How do ya do?" She asked, smiling brightly, and when the boy didn't answer she sighed. "If you don't tell me I'll just make one up. Do you really want me to call you Finatrixiebellianabethaniti? Because I will." That seemed to snap him out of it a bit, and he visibly swallowed before answering in a small voice.

"My name is Jacob Koray..." He said, and Elizabetha smiled.

"Koray... Turkish, are you?" He looked a bit confused, and opened his mouth as if to ask a question, but she shook her head. "Don't ask why I know any Turkish names, it's a long story, plus a really odd one, involving a rat, a bauble, a can of soup, and one of the more insane occupants of this place... Well... welcome to Azkaban prison?" Jacob snorted.

"Thanks, I guess. Are you... are you real?"

"Last I checked." She quipped, and Jacob gaped.

"I thought... I thought only dementors were in Azkaban. Unless, are you a dementor?" She shook her head. "Another prisoner, then? I didn't know we were allowed to wander." Again, she shook her head.

"Wrong again, gospodine. _You're_ not. I am Azkaban's resident lutalica, or wanderer, as it were. I guess you could say I'm it's queen." Oh. Queen. She _liked_ the sound of that. And she liked the way Jacob was looking at her, surprise mixed with wonder and a little bit of fear. "I was born here, you see, and raised here too. Raised to be it's royalty." Yessssss, this was sounding _marvelous_. She had no idea whether or not it was true, but the words dripping off her tongue felt right enough. And she doubted anyone would mind if she claimed herself the queen of this place. Other prisoners had claimed much stranger. Mika thought he was a porcupine.

"Y-you were raised here?" Jacob asked, no short amount of awe in his voice, and Elizabetha smiled warmly at him.

"Indeed I was. I had a _very interesting_ childhood." She winked, and he smiled. Kind of. It was more like a grimace, and he looked immediately pained afterwords. "...Well, Bai-bai!" She turned to go, making it only a few steps before Jacob called her.

"Wait, El- your highness!" _Well, that's a new one_ , she thought as she turned.

"Hai?" She inquired, and Jacob looked confused.

"Is that... Japanese?" He asked, and she nodded.

"Ah, yes. I've picked up a lot of languages here. Also, although I certainly do _not_ mind being called 'your highness,' you can just call me Lizzy, like Sirius." Jacob swallowed.

"Sirius Black? He's here?" He asked, looking around, and Elizabetha shrugged.

"Not _here_ , exactly, but a few stories up, yeah." He swallowed again.

"Is he dangerous? I heard he blew up and killed a lot of muggles, and that it took twenty Aurors to get him here." Elizabetha scoffed.

"That lovely old nutbag? Dangerous? Listen, he could easily kill a few _hundred_ muggles, and if he didn't want to be caught it would take a lot more then twenty Aurors. It would take the whole force, Dumbledore, a tank of goldfish, and still more. Whomever told you that was obviously either lying, or stupid. I'm pretty sure Sirius was put here wrongly, like Nettle and a few other werewolves like yourself. True, Nettle is incredibly dangerous, and her logic on what's moral and what isn't is quite twisted, but to be fair, she is half _pixie_ , for Merlin's sake. Of course she's going to cause trouble. By the way, why are you here?" Jacob looked down, and shook his head.

"I don't actually know. I think... I think I killed someone, the last full moon. I never remember what happens at full moon." _Ahh. Another one_. Elizabetha bowed her head to him.

"Oh, sorry. Had you taken Wolfsbane?" The answer was already easy, and when he shook his head she mentally added him to the list. The list of werewolves who couldn't afford the precious potion, and were accused of slaughter like it was their fault they hadn't kept their head when they accidentally killed someone. There were four others in the lower floors, and all but one felt miserable and guilty because of what they had done while out of their minds. One actually felt quite proud, because she realized it wasn't her fault and the person she had killed had always been quite annoying she'd thought, but the others fell for the trick and thought it was their fault someone had died. _Lowering the prices on the potion could easily prevent such deaths, thus increasing the workforce, thus further increasing by even a small amount the people capable of brewing Wolfsbane_ , Elizabetha mused, before turning away from the cell again.

"Well, if that's it, Then fare thee well!"

And she left.

Two more days till Hogwarts.

* * *

Oh my goddesses, some people actually liked this! Yayyyyyy!

On a more _Sirius_ note, I'd just like to point out that Wolfsbane potion is extremely difficult to make, meaning it's really expensive, and many werewolves can't afford to make it because they have trouble finding stable jobs. Plus, it has to be taken every day for a week before the full moon, meaning even if you could afford some, unless you could get seven doses of it, you're still screwed. Just food for thought. And yes, this was basically just filler until the net chapter.

Please tell me what you think about my most recent blight upon the world, and byeeeeeee!


	3. Azkaban Isn't Lifeless

_My first time outside, ever..._ Elizabetha mused as she stared at the open door and the swinging gate ahead of her. And the moat filled with man eating monsters, and various other barriers meant to keep what's in _in_ and what's out _out_. Hopefully they would fail this one time. She was at the ground floor of her home prison, about to go out into the world for the first time, and shop for the first time, in a place she had only read about, using currency from a variety of vaults apparently left for her by her parents. Plus Mora and Sirius, who had both taken her as a makeshift heir due to genuine affection and lack of anyone better.

 _I bet it'll be dreadful out there..._ She continued to herself as she took her first step towards the door. She was dressed in her best, a mousy brown cloak on her shoulders and beneath it, an only slightly stained cream dress. She had bribed Nettle with a spider into using her magic to put her hair up. The phrase the half pixie had used, **make your hair curl** , had left Elizabetha pleasantly anxious and with lovely thick curls in her hair, replacing her usual tangled ringlets with a softer look before shoving a silver pin given to her by Mon Cheri in. _And Jacob say's it's warm on the outside... What if I overheat?_

She was suddenly overwhelmed by a huge urge to go back into Azkaban and away from the unknown outside, back to her mother and safety and Nettle and Sirius and Madam Barthahew and even Alfred, Hogwarts be damned, before she remembered how much she had wanted to go. How happy everyone else was that she got in. That she could come back when she needed.

How she needed new books and parchment anyways...

One wouldn't think it would be this hard to leave a prison.

* * *

Draco scowled left and right on his way through Diagon Alley, furious at everything that had led to him being left alone. His father was supposed to come with him but had instead been caught up in some ministry affair, like usual. Plus, he was pretty sure he had caught sight of Potter earlier, and while he usually loved a chance to heckle the Potter heir, he wasn't in the mood right now.

Suddenly he felt a tap on his shoulder and a raspy voice asking which way to... Had he heard right? Knockturn Alley? He whirled around, expecting to see some old hag, but to his surprise saw a pale girl with curly blondish hair who looked only a bit younger then him, dressed in surprisingly good quality cloaks, albeit very, very dirty ones. _Who's this?_ He wondered.

Yet he was still cross, and anger over-won his curiosity. "What?" He snapped, and was surprised by the amused expression that passed over her previously nervous face.

"I _said_ , dragonfly," _Wait what?_ "Where is Knockturn Alley? Bellatrix recommended it to me in one of her calmer bouts." _What?!_

"You- you know my... aunt?" He asked, slightly dazed. If she meant Bellatrix Lestrange, then that meant she knew her in some way, to have mentioned her so casually.

"Maybe? ...Are you "that little brat Draco" that she mentioned? You sure look blond enough to be a Malfoy..." The girl looked rather pointedly up at his hair, and Draco flushed, whether from anger or embarrassment at his aunt's words he was unsure of.

"Well my name is Draco..." He began awkwardly, before the girl lit up.

"Oh! Suteki! You'll know how to get to the alley, then! Lead on, Dragonfly, please?" She said, and paused, waiting for him to move.

"I- Uh- I'm afraid... I don't know the way!" He finally yelped, and she shot him a bemused look.

"Why not?" She asked, and he snorted.

"Why would I? And I don't even know your name!" He told her, and she tilted her head cutely before nodding slowly.

"Da, good point. My name's Elizabetha, nice to meet you Dragonfly." She said, before bowing in an oddly gentlemanly gesture. When she straightened up she winked at him. "Now, even if you don't know the way to that particular alley, could you still help be around? I have to get things for school, and you look like you know your way around. I've never been here before..." Draco suddenly swelled with pride. _She needs my help._

"Sure. Hogwarts?" A nod. "Will it be your first year?" Obviously so, he would have remembered someone like this, but he still had to ask. She nodded again, and Draco smirked. "Follow me."

And so he led her through all of Diagon Alley that she needed to go, happy to play a part. He didn't even ask about her blood status, for now. _Of course, I'll have to know eventually._ He thought regretfully. _I hope she's pureblood. She's really nice, although her voice is weird. It sounds like she's never been without a cold in her life..._

All was going well. At least until they ran into Potter.

* * *

Elizabetha looked back and forth between the boy with messy black hair and glasses, and her guide Draco. _Or dragonfly_... She thought happily.

"Yeah, but at least I don't hide behind my father all the time!" The glasses boy said, making her gaze snap to him. _Was that actually an insult? What a horribly sad one..._

"At least I have a father! Are you sorry you're an orphan, Potter?" Draco sneered, and she winced. _I... probably should have told him that I'm an orphan too..._

"Don't bring my parents into this, Malfoy!" The boy snarled, bringing the attention of several people surrounding them, including a couple of bright gingers who immediately stood behind said "Potter."

"I agree." She piped up, making the gazes of all involved swing to her. She wondered if anyone aside from Draco had noticed her standing there. "I probably should've mentioned this, Dragonfly, but my parents are dead as well, and that was more then slightly offensive. Then again, so was the comment about hiding behind your father. Jissai mondai, in the time I've known you I haven't seen your father once, and you've already chased off that weird guy with the torture device, so you're obviously not a coward." Technically, the torture device previously mentioned was just cloak coated with heating and warming charms someone had tried to convince her to buy, but the moment it touched her the horrid warmth of it had made her stifle a pained scream. Being raised in the cold corridors of Azkaban and the chilly embraces of dementors had left her so used to the cold that warmth was entirely foreign, even painful to her. "Plus... my god, these books are horrid." Everyone was looking at her blankly as she held up the gold colored tome written by some Lockhart idiot. "Really, vampires have no problem with beetle eyes, dieu!"

"Um... Elizabetha?" Draco began, looking a cross between flattered by something, thankful for the interruption, and furious at everything in existence. "Those... are the books we came for..." She froze, before scowling.

"Oh my heart! These things are useless and _**they expect us to learn from them? Are these people id**_ \- Dragonfly, are you alright?" While she had been ranting a pained expression had crossed everyone's face, and Draco was glaring at her pointedly.

"Can you stop tanking like that? It hurts my head..." He complained, and she cocked her head to the side.

" _ **Talking like wh**_ \- Oh, did I slip into Gobbledegook? Sorry, I knew a goblin growing up. We always yelled at each other in it. Something about me not being a decent heir, usually, or that my hair was tangled, or some other rubbish." She finished. For several moments no one stopped moving, before one of the gingers halfheartedly asked "Who...?" To which Draco's usual holier than thou-ness reappeared.

"That's Elizabetha, one of the new students. She asked me for help earlier, so I was showing her around." Was it just her, or did everyone else's eyes widen in disbelief? "She's right, you know." he resumed with a nasty look at Potter. "These books are absolutely useless, my father says."

"See, there!" The boy practically yelled in triumph, before giving Elizabetha a _look_. "I told you he's obsessed with his father." She frowned.

"Ne, you said he hid behind his father. You never said anything about obsession. And what's so big about repeating what a parents said about something? I can't quote mine, as previously mentioned, but I quote Sirius all the time, and others too. It's normal. Now, back to these books..." She held a different tome up to a certain page, and pointed to a sentence. "Azkaban is not lifeless! There are rats _everywhere_. And me." Then, with an unimpressed huff she grabbed Draco's arm and flounced away, waving and calling goodbye over her shoulder.

Thus went her last day before Hogwarts. She made a friend, made some more... somewhat friends, somewhat people who wondered what the hell was wrong with her, and pointed out to several people the futility of Lockhart's works. For once, that award winning smile faltered as dozens of people left the crowd. It would soon falter again to a much greater degree after his first class with her.

* * *

I got reviews! Thank you, GreyElsewhere, I'm very happy that you liked this. I love getting compliments!

I also got another, which brought up some _very_ good points. I'm going to try to answer some of those, and maybe fix this story up a bit thanks to it. I hope the person doesn't mind me doing this, but here's the review, and my answers are in _italics_ and hopefully not too confusing:

anon: It has lots of potential, and you are well-tuned in your descriptions and storytelling, but there are a few things that are problematic.

1\. Elizabetha is turning out to be an Anti-Sue of some kind. _This is correct. I'm sorry. However, I have no idea when it comes to writing her any other way. Any suggestions?_

2\. While I guess it is (somewhat but not really) plausible for her to know that many languages (though typically she'd fall out of practice after not practicing with anyone else after a while) it doesn't make much sense for her to speak to other people (who do not know herself languages) in said languages. On that note, how do Elizabetha's polyglot abilities contribute to the plot? Do they have any function, or are they just extra power-ups for the protagonist? _Once again, you are right. There is going to be several moments planned where she'll need to know those languages, for a few characters and habits I have planned for the future, but I can have her know a few less. I'll go back and try to fix this._

3\. She is far too aware for her age, and far too sane for somebody who's lived her entire life in a prison with insane people, raised by literal soul suckers. I guess this point can be forgiven for the sake of the plot but I also highly doubt that she would be in good health living in Azkaban - nearly every prisoner there winds up looking malnourished and grimy. _I may be wrong, but by far too aware do you mean too clever? If so, there's an easy explanation: I like characters like that. So I write them._ _She is in bad health, however, all of the chapters so far have been from her own point of view, and since to her there is no other way to look, she thinks it's normal. I'm planning that when I write from another person's point of view, they'll note things like that. And as for her sanity, you're correct yet again. I am probably writing her a bit too sane. But once again, I'm planning for her madness to emerge later on, but even then, it probably won't be that good, because this is the first time I've written an insane character. I've written depressed and a little bit odd, but actual madness, this is the first. I know she's going to be addicted to depression, basically, and I know she's going to be a bit of a sociopath, and she's going to be a bit random. Let's hope that's enough for now?_

4\. Being raised in Azkaban, how much does Elizabetha know about the outside world? How does she know she's in a prison? _She knows because she's been told. The same way she knows that dementors are dementors, and a few other things. However, she doesn't know much. For instance, I plan for her to eventually find out about muggles, and be completely baffled by their existence._

Please note that I am not saying all this to hurt you in any way - this story has great potential, as long as you go about it the right way. I hope you take my constructive criticism into consideration. _No problem! I love that you took the time to tell me this, because you did make some good points. Like, you're right, she should know a few less languages. And even then, I'd just love the fact that you've noticed me. I hope you'll continue to read this story. Thanks for your input!_

Aaaaand that's it! Thank you for reading this, all of you! Byeeeeee!


	4. When McGonagall Stutters

Potter was in a bit of a daze throughout the whole sorting, until he noticed professor McGonagall stutter on a name. "E-eliza- Elizabetha!?" _Since when did she stutt- oh merlin. She did come._

There, walking calmly up to the stool, was the girl from yesterday. In a charcoal skirt and black robe, hair in the same curls but now in a ponytail, she sat down on the sorting stool, looking like some beautiful, young, serene queen. Of raging insanity and charming oddness. He didn't miss the shudder Mcgonagall had before she slowly lowered the hat onto the girls head.

What followed, was a long time.

A really long time.

When he was pretty sure they had already passed even his time under the hat, he chanced a look over at the Slytherin table, at Draco Malfoy. To his surprise, the white blonde looked almost concerned. W _orrying about one of his pets, I bet_. He looked back just in time to hear the hat announce... "Put her wherever this Dragonfly person is, I don't know! It's too confusing! Just get me off this twisted person's head!" Said person, Elizabetha it seemed was her name, looked quite pleased with herself as she shoved the hat into the female professors shaking hands and happily bolted towards Draco, who had a surprisingly happy look on his face.

Suddenly, instead of thinking his usual about Slytherins, that they were sly jerks, he thought: _By the four founders she's crazy. I am_ so _sorry Malfoy._ To which he immediately berated himself and turned to watch the last couple of first years be sorted. Their sortings all paled in comparison to that girl's.

* * *

Elizabetha walked between Draco and another boy with dark skin and close cut hair named Blaise through the chilly dungeons, feeling instantly at home among the rough walls and cold air. A far bit behind them trailed two more boys with thuggish faces, muttering to each other. Crabbe and Goyle, Draco had said.

"So, Elizabetha-" Blaise began, before she cut in. "Please, call me Lizzy, both of you." She told him, and they both gave her a short nod before Blaise rumbled on. "So, _Lizzy_ , where're you from?" He said her name like he was tasting it. Draco looked at her curiously, and she recalled that she had never told him yesterday.

"Oh, Azkaban." They froze, but she kept walking.

"Are- Are you joking?" Blaise finally choked out behind her. Draco still looked like a thestral had run him over.

"No, not at all. My mother gave birth there, and I was raised by visiting Aurors, prisoners, and dementors. That's why I know your aunt." She turned and told Draco, before walking closer. "She's absolutely nuts, but she's not as bad as some. Mrs. Crouch was bonkers before she died." Elizabetha hardly remembered the woman, but she did remember her hysterical laughing and rants about her precious son. "Are you alright, Dragonfly?" She asked, and he looked up at her with a white face.

"You- You've been living in Azkaban your whole life?" She nodded. Then, to her surprise, his face lit up. "I cannot wait to rub this in Potter's face. I got to you first!" _Oh. So he's already plotting how to use me in revenge... what an interesting guy._

Elizabetha grinned. "Bellatrix would be proud. Then resume screaming about Voldy-what's-his-face, but she'd be proud nonetheless."

Draco smiled back, and Blaise shook his head in an exasperated fashion. "Thank you, Lizzy."

"Mm, yeah, no problem... Bella liked screaming about Voldy-what's-his-face... Do you have any idea who he is?" Draco froze.

"You don't know who-" Draco paused and cast a quick look around, before continuing in a quieter tone. "Voldemort is?"

"Not a clue, aside from what Bella told me, and she wasn't really the most clarifying." As she spoke they reached what seemed to ELizabetha to be a blank wall,

"...Um...How do I explain this... Okay, yeah. You see, Lizzy, about fifty years ago there was a-"

* * *

Minerva rushed up the moving stairs, moving past groups of students without so much as a how-do-you-do on her way to the headmasters office. _Does he even know?_ She though frantically as she arrived at the statue. It obediently moved away and she rushed up more stairs. Hogwarts had so many stairs, it was amazing that anyone, student and teacher alike, could retain even the slightest bit of body fat.

Minerva had thought that maybe Hogwarts was joking when she made the acceptance letter. Or really, hoped. Now, though, the woman had began to doubt that. After all, she now had a student who had manages to scare even the sorting hat, and whom had apparently been in Azkaban prison up until now for some reason, and no explanation she could come up with sounded good.

 _Maybe she's related to an Auror and had tagged along there at the time the letter was set to arrive... no, that would mean that even at her age, she's trusted into the prison, and that doesn't bode well for anyone._

 _Is she a prisoner? A very young one?_ Minerva certainly hoped not.

 _Maybe she was visiting at the time? ...Does Azkaban allow visitors?_ Minerva didn't know. And even if it did, that could mean that Elizabetha was related to any number of death eaters, vampires, or other dangerous individuals.

The grey haired witch burst into Dumbledore's office, making the wizard look up from his desk with twinkling blue eyes. "Why, Minerva, I didn- Is something wrong?" He asked, his voice adopting a concerned tone as he gestured to the heavy wooden chair in front of his desk.

"Yes, there certainly is." She proclaimed as she sat. She knew her hat had been knocked crooked on her way up, and she straightened it as she continued. "I would like to talk to you about a new student. The Slytherin, Elizabetha, to be exact." A grim look replaced the headmasters previously curious one, and he nodded gravely.

"Yes, she concerns me too. The sorting hat's reaction to her was very disturbing." In all the years he had been here, never had the hat yelled to be taken off a head due to confusion. And it had sat upon the heads of several dark lords. "Any thoughts why it reacted like that?" He asked and was pleasantly surprised when Minerva nodded. The short rise of happiness quickly dissipated.

"I think so. Her acceptance letter was addressed to Azkaban prison." She watched as Dumbledore's eyes grew wide for a moment before he shook his head.

"Are you sure?" She nodded.

"Then I'll look into it further. For now, I suggest you go watch over your students. Just keep an eye on her." Minerva nodded and stood, going from his quarters in a slight rustle of fabric and a swirl of cloak that was nowhere near as dramatic as Severus's.

She missed Dumbedore muttering about "Damn crazy Brinks."

* * *

I got another revieeeeeew! Wheeeeee! (Dances around her computer)

Again, GreyElsewhere, thank you! I'll try to take your advice, and write accordingly. Also, just a weird thing, but can I say I love your name? I chose our name because this way it had a part of both of our names, but it ended up sounding kind of weird... Also, in case anyone actually cares, I won't be writing for several days, because I'll be busy. Anyhow, that's it! Thank you for reading this rubbish I write, and have a nice week! Byeeeeeee!


	5. Rosy cheeks, the Horror

Elizabetha was having the worst time of her life. The first day of her much looked forward to schooling, and Slytherins were learning _heating_ charms with _Ravenclaws_. All around her heat was rising as one by one pure bloods practiced the charm they already knew, or Ravenclaws got it first try. Beside her a fellow Slytherin made the dreaded warmth practically bloom from the tip of his pale wand, and she yelped. He looked at her oddly, before looking pointedly at her own wand.

She had gotten it just yesterday. When she had walked into Ollivanders with Draco, she had been fascinated by the dusty, relic-like place. She had stopped at the bank first thing that day, before meeting Draco, and surprised the goblins there with her ability to speak their language, especially their insults, plus her wide range of vaults, and now a modestly sized bag of gold coins dangled at her side as a comforting weight. Enough to buy a wand, and anything else she needed.

'Well well well, what have we here.' Ollivander had begun, staring at her like she was a unicorn caught in a swamp. He had then began thrusting wands into her hands. When he reached the tenth fail, he had handed her her current wand. The moment she had touched it's smooth wood, the shop had darkened and become colder, and an itching feeling covered her skin. It had felt just like her home. She had glanced over at Draco to see him looking around nervously. As she watched he began to scratch at his arm. She had yanked her head back forward as Ollivander tried to tug the wand from her hands, muttering that it was wrong too.

'What's wrong with it?' She asked, and he replied saying that it should have made her feel comforted and happy, not like that, to which she decided to jerk it out of his hand and hold it protectively to her chest. 'Well then it did it's job. How much?' She had snapped, and paid despite his and Draco's baffled looks. As she walked out the door Ollivander had half halfheartedly called after her that it was Alder with Horned Serpant and Unicorn tail hair core.

The Slytherin cleared his throat rather purposely, making her leave her thoughts. "What?" She snapped, and he glared at her. _This is really not my day, now is it?_ She mused as she glared right back.

"Is there a problem, you two?" A squeaky voice interrupted the staring contest, and she swiveled her head down to where her professor, Flitwick, stood beneath all the risen desks.

"Yes, actually. I'm going to the infirmary." She told him. Even as she spoke, she could feel her usually steady headache grow, and the growing warmth washing over her limbs made them tremble. She prayed her cheeks weren't rosy. That would be so embarrassing.

"Oh dear! I can see you look a bit ill, are you alright?" Flitwicks highly annoying voice asked, and she shook her head.

"No, in fact, I believe I more or less just said that. Do you mind?" She didn't expect much of a response, yet to her surprise he shook his head, and motioned to another student.

"Miss Lovegood, could you escort... Elizabetha here to the infirmary?" Several of the teachers were having a surprisingly hard time with her name, for some odd reason. She couldn't quite understand why, but suspected it had to do with her lack of a second name, like all her classmates were referred to by. The girl in question was another blond, with pale eyes, a blue tie and dangling turnip earrings.

"Okay." Turnip-girl began dreamily as she stood slowly. Elizabetha offhandedly noticed that she had been sitting apart from the other Ravenclaws. _Bullied already?_ Elizabetha wondered as she followed the other girl through the door and down a few corridors. She was startled as the girl began to speak.

"Do you not like warmth?" She asked slowly, and Elizabetha sneered.

"Do you like turnips?" She asked back, and the other nodded.

"Yes. My name's Luna, what's yours?" It was clear she was waiting for something other then Elizabetha, something Elizabetha couldn't supply.

"The teacher told you, remember?" She asked instead, and luckily Luna nodded. Then she stopped in front of a large set of door and left without another word, waving sweetly over her shoulder as she skipped back the way they had come.

* * *

Poppy looked up from her current patient, a boy with a large scratch on his forehead from falling down the endless steps of Hogwarts, to see a seemingly unharmed girl walk in through the doors and go to one of the beds, putting her hand on the mattress briefly before making a raspy noise and instead plonking down on the ground to curl of in a fetal position. _What is she doing...?_ Poppy wondered as she handed the boy a pain killing potion, before walking over to check on the girl.

"Excuse me," She began, to which the girl moaned in reply. Poppy was startled at her voice. It sounded hoarse and somewhat grating, as if she was deathly ill. "are you okay?" The girl lifted her head, and with a start Poppy saw how pale she was.

There were many different types at Hogwarts. The school didn't discriminate on whom she allowed into her hallowed halls, as long as they had magic. So Poppy had seen just as much pale skin as dark and tanned, but even the Lovegoods and Malfoys paled in comparison to this pale, no pun intended. The child's face was barely a shade above white. If her eyes were red, Poppy would've thought she was an albino. Despite her deathly complexion and slim bordering on frightfully skinny figure, the girl looked well groomed, with flaxen yellow hair in perfect ringlets, a clear face, and unwrinkled clothes. A Slytherin, Poppy noticed.

"No, hence why I am here. Would you mind helping me?"

What a silly question! Helping was the reason Poppy was there! "Of course, what do you need? Are you sick?" She asked, once again giving the girl another look over. There were no obvious injuries. Aside from obvious malnutrition. Maybe a spell gone wrong?

"Not really. Can you write a note saying to keep me cold?" Well, that certainly caught the mediwitch off guard.

"Cold? Why?" The girl sat up and crossed her legs, then shrugged.

"I was raised in a cold place. Warmth just... throws me off, you know? Or hurts. So I was wondering if you could write me a pass. It was _smoldering_." She complained, and Poppy nodded along, despite the fact that she was completely lost. _What was smoldering?_ She wondered.

"So I should notify someone that you don't do well with heat? How do you do with sunlight?" With skin as white as that...

"I burn. Badly. I got only a few minutes of it yesterday before I had to put on protection charms. I had _pink cheeks_. It was _terrible_." And with that odd comment and a stifled laugh on Poppy's part, a note was written and sent to all the teachers to keep Elizabetha, as it turned out her name was, away from heat as was possible.

And now, Poppy was mostly just concerned about her weight. She looked like she hadn't eaten in weeks.

* * *

I'm back! Not that anyone cares! Anyhow, I tried to make Elizabetha seem a bit random in this one, so hopefully that worked. And in case anyone else is wondering, I plan to put Poppy in here a few more times, just so she can fret over Elizabetha and be her awesome self in general. Yeah, I think Poppy is amazing. And yeah, I know I put Luna in here early, but she'll be needed once in a while from now on, so... Besides, this is fanfiction anyways, I do what I want.

Anyhow, thank you for reading this, and please tell me what you think! I've been getting lot's of constructive criticism with this story, which is marvelous, so thank you people, yet again. Byeeeeee!


	6. Shooting Stars

"Dragonfly!" Someone called over the din of the main hall, making Draco look up, and he grinned as he caught sight of a blond first year with curly ponytail rushing over to him.

"Lizzy." He greeted as she slid onto the bench beside him. Her hair had fallen mostly out of it's ponytail and she grinned at him before pulling the tie holding it completely out.

" **Make your hair curl** _._ " She whispered, and to his surprise it bounced back into pristine curls. She slipped the tie over her wrist before folding her hands in her lap and, not much to his surprise, bowing her head to the table and whispering in some random language.

She had mostly stopped these last two days, but when he had first met Elizabetha she had spoken a variety a languages in every sentence, practically. He recognized some French, but most of it had remained foreign. She was still bowing to the table before each meal though, just as she had last night and this morning for breakfast, and when he took her to a pub in Diagon Alley after they met.

"What was that spell? I've never seen it." Blaise asked from across the table, and Elizabetha's eyes practically lit up.

"One of the prisoners at home, Nettle, was half pixie, and she taught me. Apparently she learned magic at a different school. She called it Watford. Actually, both her parents were half pixie, too. And if you liked that spell, watch this." She told them, before beginning to sing.

" **Twinkle twinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are. Up above the world so high, like a diamond in the sky**." Elizabetha hissed. He voice wasn't off tune, but it was so rough and rasping that the common children's rhyme sounded strange when she sang it. Draco was only just getting used to her voice.

A kick under the table made him look at Blaise, who further hinted at him to look up. He did, then poked Crabbe beside him, who also looked up, and further spread the word. Soon the entire Slytherin table was looking up, and other houses began to as well, trying to see what was up. In no time at all everyone on the great hall was staring up, at the night sky that had replaced the previously cloudy ceiling. But it wasn't just night. It was just space and stars. It seemed... closer. Like the stars were brighter. As Draco watched one of them flashed brighter then the rest and fell. Fell out of the painting, in fact, and zoomed towards Elizabetha, who was still repeating the chorus. " **Twinkle twinkle little star, how I wonder what you are.** " She finished as it reached her, and the star exploded in a bright burst. Then she turned to them and smiled. "Like that."

"...Can you teach me?"

* * *

Harry watched with a scowl as the Slytherin table burst into cheers. Granted, extremely polite and dignified cheers, but cheers nonetheless. _Did that girl, Elizabetha, just summon a shooting_ star _?!_

"Merlin, did you see that? Bloody hell, even I have to admit that was impressive!" Ron sputtered beside him, while Hermione gaped at the girl, her mouth a mile wide. She'd best close if she didn't want a fly to go in... too late. The bushy haired girl spat out the insect before giving him a wild look. _Uh oh._ He thought. ' _Mione's going into rant mode._

"Harry! Did you see that?" She asked. _No. No I did not. What did_ you _see? Of course I saw!_

"Yeah... what was that?" Ron answered for him, still staring at the Slytherin table.

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out." Came Hermione's reply.

* * *

Draco groaned as a Hermione Granger on a mission walked towards him. Or, actually, Elizabetha. Behind her trailed Potter and Weasley, as usual. And, further behind, to his surprise, another girl who he distantly remembered was from the sorting last night. A Ravenclaw, by the looks of her tie, with long blindingly blond hair and silvery eyes. Had they found another mindless follower? Granger came to a halt before Elizabetha, and Draco scowled.

"How did you do that?" Granger demanded, but Elizabetha didn't answer. Instead, she waved hello to the Ravenclaw.

"Tiens Mothy! Wanna go to the library? Draco's showing me where it is." Elizabetha told the girl as she walked closer, coming to a stop in front of him and slightly to the left, and she nodded slowly, dreamily. Elizabetha smiled. "Oh, goody! Dragonfly, this is Luna Lovegood!" She rasped, and Draco sneered. Partly because of the fact he would most likely be associating often with a Lovegood, of all people, in the future, and partly because of how increasingly upset Granger was becoming.

"Hey! I'm talking to you!" She finally snapped, and Elizabetha turned to her with a grin.

"Oh, yeah, you were, weren't you? Do you mind if I ask, what did you want again?" Draco could see the Weasley boy take a half step forward before Potter grabbed his shoulder, giving him a warning look. Granger looked ready to snap. _Was Weasley really just going to attack a first year that easily?_

"I _wanted_ to know what you just did back there!" Granger said, and Elizabetha nodded.

"Oh, okay. Well, I sang Twinkle twinkle little star. Any other questions?" When there was lack of an answer she turned and left, dragging Luna and a grinning Draco with her.

She _really_ liked the library, even if she only got to spend about half an hour there before her first class. She especially liked the restricted section, which had surprisingly little security.

Just _kidding_. There were too many witnesses to break into the restricted area _now_. She'd have to wait.

* * *

Elizabetha smirked as a blond man with a striking smile paced before the group of students. This time it was a group of mixed Gryffindors and Slytherins, and Elizabetha wondered why they ever mixed the two in class considering how often they fought. Plus, it was still morning. What were they _thinking_?

 _Ah, Lockhart..._ Elizabetha thought as the man paused, ready to speak. _It shall be such fun to destroy him. I'll have to tell Jacob about this in my letter._ She had already been planning to send a letter back Azkaban. No doubt the dementors and the prisoners were worried about her. She had been missing them so much already. The cold, soul sucking feeling of her mother, the insane ramblings of Bellatrix and Mora's bright, dangerous words. Even Micheala was missed, and said vampires annoying cries and whimpers for his "You," whatever that was. And Sirius, oh Sirius, and Jacob too. She missed their silly banter and quirky grins.

"Hello, class!" Lockhart began, making her drop back into reality. "I'm Gildaroy Lockhart, not that I need any introduction, and I'm your new defense teacher! Now, you've no doubt heard about me," Elizabetha raised her hand. "Oh, yes, you? Do you have a question? Before you ask, I can't give you an autograph right now." He said with fake cheer, and internally Elizabetha grimaced.

"Actually, sir, I wanted to ask you a question." She smiled sweetly at the professor. "Were you aware that most of your books are complete trash?" She asked cheerfully, and his smile faltered.

"Excuse me?" He asked, and she took the opportunity to carry on.

"I'll take that as a no, then. For instance, in the second chapter, it says that certain spells can keep a werewolf from transforming, but conveniently doesn't list these spells. Now I haven't finished the book, but I _do_ happen to know that is complete _poppycock_. I grew up around at least a dozen werewolves, and I'm sure that if there was a spell to prevent them transforming into rabid, blood-crazed monsters once monthly, _they would know_. Unless you're keeping it a secret, in which case who knows how many deaths you could have prevented, but _didn't_. Would that count as murder? Well, professor?" The man didn't reply and whispers were beginning to fly around the room, so Elizabetha continued. "And another thing, you claim to have been a great student, but no one I know who attended Hogwarts at the same time as you can even remember your name." She didn't mention that most of the people she had questioned had been insane prisoners who didn't remember their own names either.

"She's right." To her surprise, a Gryffindor spoke this time. She was a fairly pretty young girl with bright red hair and shining eyes. _She looks familiar..._ Elizabetha realized.

"It says in the third chapter," The girl said, holding up her textbook to the appropriate page. "That you were a great quidditch player, and that that's also how you know so many spells for healing injuries. But my family follows quidditch avidly, and I've never heard of you. And I looked up all the spells you listed, and they're mostly useless, I think." By now the whispers had risen in volume to a loud murmur, and another Slytherin, one Elizabetha recognized as the one that had glared at her in charms, raised his hand.

"Hey, they're right! I've never heard of a Lockhart in quidditch either, and my father practically worships it! And hey! Kaylor Brackery was a _great_ seeker, how dare you insult him? And in ink!" He howled in outrage, and just like that the class dissolved into yelled insults and shouted evidence that the great Gildaroy Lockhart was a _fraud_.

It was actually quite fun.

 _Heh, I was right._ Elizabetha mused as she turned and left, calling to a few fellow snakes that she'd rather be caught dead then in that class. A red haired Gryffindor girl ran after her, followed by a Slytherin boy with brown hair. _First day and_ slaying it. _Such fun_.

* * *

So there, that's the best I can do with that, I hope it wasn't completely terrible, but I know that it could be much better. Oh well, I'm trying, so please excuse the plot holes. I just needed to throw in Watford, because I love Carry On, and Mikaela, because I love Seraph of the End, and he'll be showing up later.

Anyhow, guess what day it is where a certain someone lives? Halloween! And guess who's going to be dressing like Draco Malfoy, despite the fact that she's technically female? Yeah, it shouldn't be too hard to figure out, should it?

Anyhow, as usual, thank you for reading my story, because I'm lonely and having people like something I do makes me happy. Please review, and byeeeeeee!


	7. She's Spreading!

Ron looked up as his only sister plopped down next to him at the breakfast table. "Guess what?" Ginny asked happily, peering nervously at Harry out of the corner of her eye. Bloody girls and their bloody crushes on his best friend. Even his sister now...

"Wot?" He asked, still chewing his eggs. She grimaced at him, but kept talking.

"I made a friend! Did you hear about the whole thing with the first years and Professor Lockhart yesterday?" Ron practically choked. The "Lockhart scandal" had already become famous among students, and no doubt some children would be writing to their parents about it soon, which would in turn mean that soon all of magical England would know about it. Ron almost felt sorry for Lockhart, even if he was apparently a liar, a thief, and a terrible teacher. During his, Hemione and Harry's first class with the man, he had set Cornish pixies on them and fled the room. "Well, she's the one who started it. I think she knows some werewolves, or something, because she got really upset about some of the things written about them in the textbook. Anyhow, she started it and I helped, and now she's my friend!"

Ron swallowed another spoonful of eggs and opened his mouth. "What's her name?" He asked.

"Elizabetha. She never said her last. Oh, she's also the one who did the funny spell at lunch yesterday, and was at the bookstore, too!"

 _Bloody hell. She's spreading._

* * *

Elizabetha was having a fairly good time. She had two best friends, Draco and Blaise, plus several half friends, like Luna, some red-headed Gryffindor girl, and another Slytherin first year, Peter, the one who had glared at her in charms yesterday. To be fair, the more time she spent with him the more she realized that he simply glared at everything. Kneazles, she was sure Peter would glare at even kneazles. She wasn't quite sure what to think of Harry Potter and his two friends, though. She was pretty sure Granger was after either her life or knowledge that she didn't have, but Potter himself seemed okay, and Weasley she hoped wasn't too bad.

"Lizzy." Blais' voice interupted her musings and she looked at him blankly. "You're just chewing on the spoon now. I don't think they're edible." He rumbled, and she looked down to notice he was right.

"Oopsie daisy. Ah well, I've eaten worse." That gained Draco's attention, and he gave her a slightly concerned look. She laughed. "Hey, nothing too bad! To be fair, dementors were bound to be terrible cooks from the start. I don't even want to know what they fed me as a baby." She told him, and they left it at that, eating in silence for a bit.

"So," he began a while later. "today you start potions." She nodded happily. It was one of the classed she was looking forward to. Granted, she was looking forward to them all, but who cared. "I'll be praying for you."

 _Uh...what? Why?!_

Five minutes later she finished breakfast and rushed to said class early, mentally reviewing what she knew of potions, which was probably quite a lot thanks to her odd but informative upbringing, until the rest of the students filtered in and the professor arrived. _Gloriously_.

Elizabetha stared as a man with longish black hair and a slightly crooked nose swept past in a truly marvelous fashion, coarse-looking black cloaks billowing behind him not unlike a dementors. _So this is the infamous Snivellus..._ She immediately liked the man, despite what Sirius said. He obviously had good taste; his classroom was down in the colder area of the dungeons, and filled with vials and bundles of things that reminded her of her own rooms. She could almost swear she saw a bundle of silver fur that looked just like Mora's.

"Welcome..." The man hissed loudly, and Elizabetha felt a comforting chill run down her spine. "I have no doubt," He continued slowly. "That some of you idiots think this class will be easy. Don't be fooled. Potions is as hard as any other subject, and requires just as much work, if not more to ensure you don't lose your life due to some stupidly made mistake. In this class I will teach you all you need to know, assuming you're not idiots. And if you wish to learn, I can teach you how to bottle up life itself." Ending with that dramatic note and a good solid glare that sent a few more chills down Elizabetha's spine, he turned to the black board and scribbled something down. "Open your textbooks to page twelve and get to your stations."

The rustle of pages and the stomping of feet followed as students rushed to obey the bat-like, or in Elizabetha's case, dementor like professor.

"What you will find at your stations are the ingredients for a simple cough potion. Assuming you are at the right page, commence. If not, get out of my class."

To Elizabetha's great amusement, two people actually scurried out. ... _Really?_

* * *

Severus Snape stared doubtfully down at the cauldron before him. In it was a pale pink liquid, bubbling merrily away. The color was right. The smell of the steam rolling off of it was right. It wasn't exploding, or exuding toxic fumes, that he knew of. But the area felt unusually chill, even for the dungeon, and suddenly he noticed that cooling charms had been placed on the fire. He shot a doubtful look at the girl who had brewed it. She was one of his newest Slytherins, blondish, skinny, and freakishly pale in the strange light of his classroom. He didn't miss the shimmer of insanity in her dark-circled sleep-prevented eyes as she smiled expectantly at him.

"It is done well." Was all Severus said before going on to the next failed brew. Honestly, she was only the second to get it right so far, so he probably should have been far more rewarding, but that really just wasn't him, so he just continued to insult those who failed and leave the third who had succeeded with an approving nod. Not getting hexed should be enough of a reward, he decided.

"Fifteen points to Slytherin." He ended up saying. Unsurprisingly, they had done the best, the three who completed the cough potion all being from his house. Of course.

Some muttering rebelliously, the students filed out of his classroom. Soon only he and the blond girl remained.

"Professor, may I ask you a question?" She asked, and he blinked at her voice. It was like rusty nails scratching on dry wood. He nodded, and she continued. "I was wondering if I could put cooling charms on my station next time as well, or if it was an issue."

"Are you Elizabeth?" He distantly remembered getting a note from Poppy about one of his students having issues with heat. Or something like that. "The one who has trouble with heat?"

"Elizabetha, actually. With an A at the end. Of course, I do understand that you don't want to spoil me, after all, discomfort is part of life, however I thought to ask." That surprised him, on some small level. She seemed rather accepting of how miserable life was, for a first year, and was actually somewhat polite. Entirely unlike that Potter brat, who complained at every opportunity.

Oh well, that hate was mutual. Somewhat. Not really. Not with those green eyes.

"Do whatever you want, as long as it doesn't mess up your potions." Oddly enough, she smiled gratefully up at him. _No one smiles at me. What is she up to...?_

"Thank you, professor. Oh, and sir? I love your cloak. Your entrance was amazing." With that she walked off, leaving Severus slightly speechless. And mostly flattered.

He'd worked on that entrance for days, it was nice to know someone appreciated it.

* * *

Um... Can I just say that I've always loved Snape's cloak? It's _marvelous_. Also, I'm going to call him Snivellus occasionally, so don't be, like, offended, or something. The reasoning for that was that is probably what she thought his name was, being friends with Sirius and all. I'll be trying to thrown stuff like that in every now and then.

Also, I wanted to ask this as early as possible, but who should the new DADA teacher be? Should I have Snape start teaching it, or just make someone up? Should I put Remus in early? Should I throw Lucius Malfoy in and watch the chaos unfold? That actually sounds really fun. I may do that, or at least have him show up for some reason. Anyhow, I have only a few more chapters written until I'll need to know what to do with that, so please tell me in the reviews! Or feel free to suggest someone else, too. I need to know before I write much more. Anyhow, that's it, so byeeeeee!


	8. Innocent as a Pixie

Elizabetha filed quietly into the room with the other Slytherin and Gryffindor first years, shooting a quick look around before going to sit next to Peter, who promptly glared and then ignored her. She saw the red head girl from before and waved before focusing on the teacher, who stood nervously in front of her desk. Elizabetha could almost swear she woman kept sneaking glances at her. A chair dragged back and heavy plop sounded beside her, followed by the red haired girls voice. She had to hand it to her, the girl certainly was brave enough for her house. Elizabetha had only been at Hogwarts for a few days, but as far as she knew Slytherins and Gryffindors did _not_ mix. Which led to question why she had every other class with them. They were _really_ asking for hexes to fly.

"Hey, remember me, right? Just Elizabetha, right?" The girl asked, and Elizabetha nodded.

"Yeah. Your name? I forgot." She lied easily. Honestly, she had been mostly focused of Draco, who was walking down the next hall at the same time the other was introducing herself. The girl looked slightly disappointing she didn't remember, before brightening and grinning anyway.

"Ginny, Ginny Weasley. I know, kind of weird, right? Yours is too, though, isn't it? Oh, sorry, was that rude?" Elizabetha shook her head, and the girl, apparently Ginny, continued. "Who gave you your name, anyway? It's so pretty."

"Ms. Mordelia Madalina Mora. And speaking of pretty names, she has a lovely one, don't you agree?" Ginny nodded.

"Yeah, she does. Who is she?"

"The lady with the tail on the third to highest floor. She has nightmares."

Ginny looked confused, and opened her mouth, but closed it when the teacher began to speak. The woman, who had graying hair and wire spectacles, looked around the room before coming to rest her blueish gaze on Elizabetha. And Elizabetha was pretty sure the woman grimaced when she saw Ginny with her.

"Welcome to transfiguration. I am Minerva Mcgonagall, and I will be your teacher." The professor began, looking away. Elizabetha could already tell she was going to hate this class. Unless, like, it actually turned out to be useful, and the teacher stopped acting like a stalker. "If there are no objections, please take out your wand. Before you there should be a fork. I am going to give you a spell to turn it into a writing quill, understand?" She looked around to make sure everyone nodded. Elizabetha caught her eye again before the woman purposely ignored her. "Good. Now hold out your wands above it and repeat after me: Scribblifors. Scrib, luh, forz." Professor McGonagall said, and flicked her wand. "That is the movement. Now do as I have told you." All around the class room people began muttering the spell and flicking their wands.

Elizabetha slowly drew her wand out, the elder smooth against her hand and the little black ribbon at the handle soft. She looked down at her fork. It was heavy polished silver with four points, plain except for two elegant swirls at the blunt end. She giggled to herself, before casting a quick look around. Ginny, and several Slytherins she didn't know yet had already finished, but their quills were all extremely plain white ones.

So she took it upon herself to make a prettier one.

Leveling her wand at the silver fork, she imagined what that same fork would look like if it was a feather. Silvery grey, no doubt, and maybe a few decorative stripes or swirls... And she could charm it, too...

Five minutes later Professor Mcgonagall began walking around the room, offering tips to the few who still had not succeeded and congratulating those who had. Or, in the case of a few, re-transfiguring their quills into fork so they could try again, because one Gryffindors half melted, screaming quill was greatly disturbing.

When she reached Elizabetha there was a sharp intake of breath, before she reached out with a trembling hand. Mcgonagall grasped the quill, bringing it closer to her face, and Elizabetha's heart swelled with pride.

The end result of her hard work had been a slim grey feather with darker striped running through it's vanes, and a curling tip. She was very proud of it. She had even sharpened the tip to help prevent smudging, and charmed it to be self inking, like she had read in one of her books at her home.

"Ten points from Slytherin." A clipped voice said, and Elizabetha gasped as Mcgonagall snapped her quill in half. "For cheating."

Beside Elizabetha, Ginny gasped and slammed her hand into the table. "Are you kidding, professor? Elizabetha didn't cheat! I saw her make that! She asked me whether it should have stripes or not! I said yes!" Personally, Elizabetha was pretty sure that last part had nothing to do with what was happening, but appreciated the sentiment anyway. Plus, The stripes _had_ looked fantastic. Beside her, Peter temporarily abandoned his glaring to pipe up with "Yeah! Elizabetha didn't do anything wrong! You had no reason to snap it! You're being unfair!" He argued, and in return received a glare from the woman.

"Five more points from Slytherin, for talking back to a teacher." Ginny practically exploded at that.

"But I did it too! And Elizabetha can do it again, right? You can even watch this time!" She said, and Elizabetha nodded in agreement, but her professor just shook her head and walked away.

* * *

Ginny scowled as she walked down the halls, shivering a bit. Ahead of her was Elizabetha, head held high, and beside her walked Peter. Already many of her fellow Gryffindors were gossiping about her being a traitor to her house for being friends with them, but she didn't care. Elizabetha was nice, and Peter was quite okay, and if nobody else even thought to see that before labeling her a traitor, then so be it.

"It's not fair. I'm so sorry you guys." She muttered, and Peter shrugged. Up ahead, Elizabetha turned and waited for them to come closer. She looked oddly at home in the dark chilly corridors, with the dull light casting her pale thin face into odd shadows.

"Hey, S'okay. No one said leaving my home would be easy, and they never said I'd get good grades, which I guess they're mostly wrong about, but whatever! What I do know is that Mon Cheri and Luc gave me these little white candies that fizzle in your mouth, called Fizzy Wizzys. Want some?" She asked, and despite thinking this was hardly the time for candies both Ginny and Peter nodded. They had both saw the little glimmer of tears that were surfacing on the honey blonds eyes, and the tint of insanity that came with them. "Oh, goody. Draco and Blaise have free period right now. If Only Luna could come, it would've been like a party!"

As they walked down corridors Ginny had never been before, she realized they were going to Slytherin rooms. If her house could see her now, they'd definitely call her a traitor. _Well, too bad, I don't care._ She thought mutinously as Peter stopped her by a seemingly plain wall. Elizabetha muttered something intelligible, but it sounded suspiciously like " _Venomous squirrels_."

"What're we doing he- Oh. Cool!" Even as Ginny watched, a section of the wall rolled back, showing the room beyond it. Green orbs hung from the ceiling, illuminating the room with a dull green glow, and snakes were everywhere. Not real ones, of course, but carved ones. Etched into the rough grey stone walls, carved into the wooden legs of black couches and straight backed chairs, printed on posters hanging above the fireplace's mantle piece. It also had snakes carved into it, two curling around the Slytherin crest at the center of the mantle. Elizabetha stepped in and spread her arms.

"Welcome to snakiest house's common room, my minion! If someone hexes you, and trust me they will, feel free to curse them right back! It's all allowed in here!" She proclaimed loudly, gaining the attention of several older Slytherin who all scowled and shushed her, shooting a quick glare at Ginny that clearly said "Don't you dare." It felt surprisingly like home. _Minus the rat running about and mother running about, mixing up Fred and George. And really, anything like home. Just surprisingly nice, really._

"Lizzy!" Someone shouted, gaining the older Slytherins glares instead, but instead of shrinking back the boy who had called to them just shrugged the looks off. "Hey Liz, welcome back to the dungeons!" He continued, and to Ginny's surprise Elizabetha all but launched herself at him, muttering about Dragonflies.

 _Wait... is that- is that Draco Malfoy?_ Ginny realized, before quietly asking Peter the same.

"Yeah. I think Elizabetha knew him before she came. Oh, I gotta go. My sister Mina is over there." He said, pointing at a third year girl with wavy thick brown hair and more freckles then even him. And Ginny was pretty sure you could play connect the dots on his face. "Bye." He told her before heading over. The girl waved as he came over, patting the empty seat next to her on one of the couches. So, now alone, she resumed her staring at Malfoy.

The boy, who was now talking with Elizabetha and looking quite upset, was handsomer then she had imagined. He was by no measure a model, but by the stories Ron had told her, she had expected him to be furry, with, like, horns and a tail, or something. Yet there he stood, with ridiculously pink lips and smoothed back blond hair, not looking like a cartoon devil. _Ron did always exaggerate._ So she made her way over to him and her friend, trying to ignore the suspicious glances, glares, and calculating looks she got as she crossed the _Slytherin_ common room. Merlin, she really was in the snake pit, wasn't she? Or... would Salazar be more an appropriate saying in this case?

"Hey," Malfoy said as she got closer. "Is it true? Did professor Mcgonagall snapped Lizzy's quill?" Ginny nodded, surprised. He actually sounded concerned. "Ugh! That bi- Lith, moff ya han." To Ginny's amusement, Elizabetha had moved her hand over the boys mouth before he could utter the swear, effectively muffling him.

"Dragonfly! Ginny is a child! She's innocent! Don't use such language around her!" She told Malfoy, and when he looked back to her Ginny grinned. He raised one perfect eyebrow.

"...Yeah, _right_. I know her siblings. She's as 'innocent' as a _pixie_ is."

* * *

Albus Dumbledore stared down at the broken quill Minerva had moments ago slammed into his desk.

"And this is?" He asked slowly, turnign his gaze upwards. Minerva had been huffing and puffing since she came in, but had yet to say an understandable word.

"That _thing_ , is what _Elizabetha_ crafted in my class today." The woman spat, glaring at the quill like she was trying to light it aflame.

"And?" He asked carefully.

"She cheated!" She accused, jabbing a finger at the quill. Now that he looked at it, it must have been lovely before it was snapped. It was a pretty pale grey shade with darker strips running along it, and the end curled subtly. But now the shaft was jagged where it was broken, and the vanes were ruffled and torn from each other, leaving it a messy appearance.

"Not necessarily. Minerva, what did you tell the girl?" He asked, slightly worried. He had hated the child's mother with a passion, but the girl, albeit rather twisted according to the sorting hat, had seemed mostly stable, and full of potential. Like her mother.

"I told her that she was cheating. She had to be, right? And then, then, one of my Gryffindors tried to defend her! Albus, she's manipulating them, I'm sure!" Minerva accused, and began to pace around from where she stood. "Then, another Slytherin insulted me! I only took fifteen points, but I should have taken fifty!"

"Well, she no doubt hates you now, that's for sure. Minerva, did I ever actually say there was anything wrong with the girl?" When Minerva didn't reply, he nodded. "Elizabetha, I believe, is the daughter of a woman names Jem Brinks. Have you ever heard of the Brinks?" When the woman shook her head, Albus continued. "They're an old family. Older then most, actually. They're one of the few old families that aren't strictly pure-blood, or at least they used to be. They were dwindling for years. Elizabetha is probably one of the last. The Brinks, you see, have several distinguishing features. One, for instance, is that they keep grudges. Forever." At this Minerva winced lightly. "But the main ones are these: Madness, power, and neutrality unless given any slight reason not to be. In this case, you just gave the girl reason to hate the light forever, simply because you took house points for quite possibly no reason. You see, they're quite easily angered, even if they rarely show it."

Especially the girls mother. She'd been one of the sneakiest, most dangerous students he'd ever had. And talented, too.

"But she cheated! I'm sure of it! No first year could have done something like that!" Minerva argued, to which Albus shook his head.

"I would would disagree. Many talented first years have come over the years I've been at Hogwarts, and could have done this easily." He could had mention that one of those had been You-know-who himself, but deemed that information unnecessary. "And as I said before, the Brinks are very powerful. What matters now is that we calm Elizabetha back down before she ends up trying to kill you one of these days.

Honestly, they needn't have worried. Or maybe they should have, because Elizabetha had already had her revenge by charming Minerva's hat, which she had stupidly left unguarded in the classroom, to turn into a chicken the next time she put it on and be impossible to remove for a week. And she had cast a sticking charm on her chair, too.

Revenge was sweet. And best served with chicken.

* * *

I regret nothing. Well, maybe a little bit, but not that last bit about the chicken. I'll never regret that. And if anyone's upset about me making Mcgonagall into a villain, I really _didn't._ She had good reason to believe bad of Elizabetha, having previously been told only to watch her, and knowing that she came from a place where only the worst kind of people are. She was meant to only come of as wrongly informed.

Anyhow, I got like some reviews, and wanted to reply to them, because I like doing that. So, to Toraach:

I'll cover some more about the Brink family later, but until then, here's a bit about them in the story. And actually, the ball gown was Mora's, but I'm kind of happy that you thought that far into it. Mora will actually become quite a big character eventually, so that dress _is_ important, and I'm glad you noticed it.

And as for the language, I needed her to be fluent in English, obviously, and Gobbledegook, because that's just a fun habit of hers to throw in there. And for the third I chose French, because I once found some argument online about whether Bellatrix was british or french, and thought, what the hell? Bella is going to teach Elizabetha french. Because this is my fanfic, and therefore my logic. And as for her last two languages, she knows some bits of Japanese, and... I have no idea exactly what that language you mentioned was. I was playing with google translations, and it said it was Croatian, but we all know how google can be. So I dunno.

And as for developing an immunity for dementors, no, actually. In fact, Elizabetha is more susceptible to them then, say, Ron. Then again, we all know that Ron is a ginger, so he really has no problem with the dementors anyhow. ...I'll probably get yelled at for that joke, eventually. Anyhow, the reason that Elizabetha is so used to the dementors is that she has no really bad memories. Think of it this way: If you were raised in a place where you were frequently hurt, it wouldn't bother you as much as someone who had never been harmed in their life. You're used to it. Elizabetha was raised in a place where suffering was pretty much normal, and therefore isn't as bad to her. Just normal. So what bad memories could she have for the dementors to feed off of, when for her bad memories are just everyday memories? Sure, some are a bit more painful, and that might work, but really, the dementors have no reason to feed off of her, so they won't.

Or, if you just mean an immunity to their feeling in general, also no. She's in no way immune. In fact, in the future she may become addicted to them. I don't know if you've ever been depressed or lonely, but in my experience the feelings are strangely attractive. She's used to the sensation of having her soul hanging onto her body by a thread, and to the cold that her family brings, to such an extent that as she goes on without these things, she will be going more insane.

And that's it! I still need opinions about the new Defense teacher, so leave a review, and thanks for reading this! Byeeeee!


	9. Owls and Fake Smiles

_Dear dementors and crazy people_

 _Guess what? My first week at Hogwarts is over, and it's been so much fun. I was sorted into Slytherin, no surprise there. Well, maybe a bit. Honestly, I was also considering Ravenclaw. Or Hufflepuff. Or Gryffindor. I honestly didn't care. But Slytherin has some really awesome dungeons, and the house ghost is very nice, so_ score _._

 _I've made several friends, such as Draco Malfoy, Blaise Zabini, Luna Lovegood, Ginny Weasley, and Peter Pettigrew._

 _Just kidding, Sirius! I haven't forgotten my promise to kill that traitorous rat if I saw him, so I wouldn't become his friend! I just can't remember Peter's last name. They're all such good friends! For instance, I got in trouble with one professor, Minerva Mcgonagall, when she accused me of cheating! Can you imagine? Anyhow, Ginny and Peter stood right up for me! We had house points taken, but it was still so nice of them._

 _My other classes have all been quite fine. Flying is okay, I got the broom up on the third try and I think I'm pretty good at it. It's really fun._

 _I had some trouble in charms, but I got the school nurse to sign a note. Potions has been lovely, I don't know why you never liked Snivellus, Seri, he's quite darling I think. And by the way, it turns out his name is actually Severus, not Snivellus, did you know that? And I had the most fun at Defense Against the Dark Arts! The teacher they had for it was totally useless, so I got him fired, and for now Professor Snape is teaching it too. The first thing he did was give me back the points Mcgonagall took, and then I got ten more when I beat five opponents in a row! Bella, your tips helped me so much! (Although certain things they don't allow, like crucioing them, or throwing knives at their faces. I don't know why they don't. They're teaching how to defend ourselves, aren't they?)_

 _Of course, it's not all good. As mentioned, Professor Mcgonagall doesn't like me, but now she's trying to apologize all the time, and I don't like it because I don't think she means it. But the chicken on her head helps me cope. Some of the older students are bullies, and some of the other Slytherins don't like me because I keep bringing Ginny, a Gryffindor, and Luna, Ravenclaw, into the common rooms with me. But that's what jinxes are for, so._

 _Plus history as absolutely boring. I've been using the time to sleep, and I'm_ still _getting good grades in it._

 _There's a pair of earrings in here for Nettle, give them to her and tell her she's free to break out of prison and come visit me as long as she at least brings someone along. I'm missing you all so much!_

 _I can't wait until I can see you all again._

 _Love,_ _Elizabetha_

 _PS. Have a nice nightmare, Mora!_

With one final hum of satisfaction, Elizabetha set down her quill, folded and slid the letter, along with a pair of silvery dangling earrings into an envelope. Then she headed to the owlries.

* * *

The owlries were nice, Harry had always thought. Kind of peaceful, but busy at the same time, with owls and other birds flying in and out and usually a few students hanging around. But he especially like it in the mornings, like this, when it was still wet with dew and slightly chilly from the night, and the only occupants were the owls themselves, casting their wise eyes about at they spoke to one another. This was his favorite time to visit Hedwig.

This time, though, it wasn't empty. Except for him, there was one other person. A girl with blond curls, in a dark red dress that looked rather like a vampire queens probably would, with huge loose sleeves and a low neckline, and black lace sewed on randomly. It looked cold, but she wasn't even shivering.

 _Is that...?_ He wondered.

"Um...Elizabetha?" He began slowly, staring. He hadn't expected to see her here. She hummed at him, but didn't move her eyes from a black owl, who she was apparently holding a staring contest with. He didn't know her that well, having only met her twice, sort of, but even that was enough to make him think of her as a sort of friend, and wonder if she was okay. "Are you... alright? Is something the matter?"

"I feel funny." She rasped, and he stiffened. He'd never get used to that voice no matter how many times he heard it, he was sure.

"Are you sick? Do you need to talk to-"

"No." She interrupted him, shaking her head. "Not that kind of funny. Like... I don't know. Hot inside. I don't like it." She muttered, and the owl made a funny sound, like it was scoffing. "Shut up, Tobias. Nobody asked you." She scolded it, and she looked so serious as she did it, that Harry laughed. She gave him a questioning look, and he shrugged. She hissed at him, and then turned back to the owl, resuming her staring.

About four minutes later, Harry decided to ask what she was doing.

"Hm? Oh, sending a letter." It was only then that Harry noticed the envelope in her hands.

"But why are you glaring at the owl?"

"Tobias doesn't want to go."

"Wait, they can refuse?" _That... probably sounded wrong._ Herry realized after the words left his mouth. _Of course they can refuse, they're sentient. Hedwig never has, though._

"Maybe. Phoros?" She stopped staring to call, and a few moments later another owl landed. This one was smaller, with a big round face, golden eyes, and darkly streaked feathers. Harry recognized it, he'd seen in several times before and always wondered whose it was. Now ignoring the previous owl, she handed the new one her letter. "Thanks." She told it, before ruffling it's feathers a bit. It squawked happily at her before flying out one of the windows, her letter in it's claws.

It looked almost as pretty as Hedwig, as it flew away. He envied Elizabetha, a bit, even if he only really needed one owl.

"Phoros is Draco's, actually." _Wait, did I just say that out loud?_

"Yes." _Well *bleep.* Maybe I should have slept longer._

"Oh my. I can't wait to tell Ginny about this. Mata!" It took Harry a few moment to realize what Elizabetha had just said, about Ginny, but when he did she had already started skipping down the steps two at a time. Which was quite the spectacle in her dress. He honestly had no idea how she wasn't cold. Or why she was awake, to be honest. Everyone in his dorm had been asleep when he had left, but she was here even before him.

"Um...Hey!" He called after her. She paused. "Uh...get well?"

"Never." And then, she was gone. Tobias screeched at him.

* * *

Elizabetha scowled as she waited for her friends to awake, haven taken up waiting in the common room. Her eyes burned from lack of sleep, a welcome sting that reminded her of home, entirely unlike the one in her chest that shortly followed her memory of the place she was raised. The one in her chest wasn't just physical annoyance, it was... something better. The pang of loneliness deep in her stomach felt welcome, and she thought up more memories to make it grow.

Her mother grating out her name comfortingly, stroking her ratty ringlets with a bony half rotted finger as she stumbled for the first time up the steps from her rooms. They used to both be bedrooms, one with her cot and the other with a massive nest of soft rags that she missed for years after she grew out of it.

Then the first time she had caught a rat for Sirius. She was younger, and the rats had just recently started to infest Azkaban, and she had caught one to show to him. Then the moment he had seen it, he had a rather _interesting_ reaction, and the days following had been filled with rat hunting until their tiny dead bodies were a sizable pile in the corner of his cell. She had already been used to Sirius not making sense, and used to violence form other prisoners, but that had been the first time she realized that her Seri was dangerous too. It had destroyed her childhood, in a way, to watch him black out the little lives. And just made it bigger, in another way.

And when Nettle had first come, and she'd flit about her cell as an anxious mess that Elizabetha was afraid wouldn't survive. She'd always been afraid for Nettle, on some level. She was used to wizards and werewolves, not pale and delicate creatures with spidery fingers and breakable wings. And Nettle, with her childish insanity and sweet fretfulness had been a lovely change of pace for her. And they had started talking, then, and Nettle had become something of a sister who wasn't really a sister in any way, shape, or form of the word. Something of a sister with a feathery crest who chirped her name and saw snips of the future but never described it in a way that made sense.

And when Mao had died. Sweet, mad Mao, with silver hair and purple eyes, who taught her how tolaugh and couldn't stop the voices in his head and longed more then anything else for silence. And, Elizabetha supposed, he got in in the end. Death was probably quite. He'd been the one who almost made her cry back then.

If Elizabetha wasn't too old to cry now, she probably would have been tearing up.

By the time Draco found her, though, she had her nose buried in a book, happily ignoring the sticking burn in her chest. Because even if she hadn't been too old to cry, it was just stupid to cry in front of others, no matter how much she missed her Azkaban.

Tears bring pain to everyone, fake smiles only to oneself.

* * *

I decided I wanted one chapter to go back and remember that this actually is Elizabetha's first time away from her home, ever. And that she is, in fact, surrounded by everything new that she doesn't recognize. And that she's scared and confused and missing her home, but can still hide her emotions, and will, until I reach her breaking point and this whole story goes to hell. Which it will, I assure you. I'm writing it, after all. Anyhow, feel free to complain if you don't like this chapter, I know I'm not the best at writing this kind of stuff.

Also, thank you to all the people who have followed this, I just noticed how high the number was getting and was like "Yesssssss, I hold them all in my control... yesssss..."

...Er, I mean, I was really happy? ...Uh, please leave a review, especially about the new DADA teacher, and byeeee!


	10. Didn't I Mention the Snake?

Elizabetha could swear Draco and Ginny were acting weird recently. Draco was acting cringy and nervous whenever she saw him, especially around Ginny, and Ginny herself kept rushing off, leaving terrible excuses in her wake.

"I have to go do history homework." Was the latest one, and as Elizabetha watched Ginny speed off she scoffed before flopping back onto a loveseat.

"She does know that you can just write "Oogily googily goblin wars" and get an A, right? Or that if you write all of Ooglily googily yuugily boogily you can get an O?" She asked her other friends, minus Draco who was in detention for hexing Potter in the halls, again, who were scattered around her on various couches. They were in the Slytherin common room again, and now, with the Gryffindor gone, they were getting much less glares, even if Luna was still there, mumbling merrily away in her corner and not responding to any of them.

"Really?" Blaise asked, and she nodded. Yes, _I am_ all knowing _, Peter. Plus Sirius told me._

"Yep. I tried. It's all I write for answers in that class anymore, and I'm still passing. I think it's because I actually do anything and write something down, because apparently most of my other classmates don't." She explained, and Peter grinned.

"How do you think erinaceous goblin wars would work?"

"An E, at least. You'd pass, but barely. Try mixing in pouf-pouf or jentacular occasionally and I can guarantee an A for sure."

"I thought this conversation was about Ginny?" Blaise asked, and Elizabetha paused in her listing of other things to write that would get Peter an O. _Aww, didn't even get to say Finatrixiebellianabethaniti goblin wars..._

"Ah, yeah, I forgot. Gin's lying. I don't know what she's doing, but it probably has something to do with the huge snake in the walls. They seem alarmingly close." When the others froze and stared at her, aside from Luna who had started cheerily humming, she frowned. _I thought I told them about that..._ "Did I not mention that there was a huge snake in the walls?" They shook their heads, and Luna switched tunes. "Oh. I could've sworn I did. Anyhow, there's a giant, Salazar-be-damned snake slithering through the pipes and walls of Hogwarts. I thought you knew, Blaise. Was it not there last year?"

"No. No, there was not a big snake in our walls, or pipes, last year. How- how big, exactly?"

"Oh, big enough to easily swallow a thestral, why? Don't worry, it won't eat you. It's not allowed to eat purebloods. It possibly can eat me, though, so I think I'm gonna high-tail it to Professor Snape and ask him for some decent defense spells, just in case. And maybe warn him that it can possibly eat him too. He'll probably want to know that."

xXx

Ginny hurried down the hall and into the Gryffindor common room, ignoring the looks of disgust and suspicion she got as she headed toward the dormitories. E _ven the Slytherins themselves are nicer to me then my own house nowadays. At least most of them only seem annoyed by me now. And Mina talks to me._ Mina, as it turned out Peter's sister was named, was actually quite nice. Peter had introduced them to each other the third day they were friends, and the older Slytherin was easily among the kindest people she knew. Apparently her big ambition was actually to become wise, and personally Ginny thought she had already reached it. The pretty freckled third year had been helpfully dumping advice on her whenever she asked. Also, Elizabetha double checked her homework for her. You literally couldn't find a better friend then that, as far as Ginny was concerned.

Just as she got to the dormitory entrances, a third year stepped in front of her, barring her path. Bethany Feltip, if she remembered correctly.

"Ginny Weasley." The girl began. She was tall and stocky, with curly black hair. Behind her stood one of the Patil twins, and another third year Ginny didn't recognize. "We need to talk. We've all noticed that you've been hanging out with the _snakes_ a lot." Bethany said, gaining the attention and nods of several people around. She pronounced snakes like it was a stain upon the earth, and Ginny felt anger rise within her. Ginny cast a quick look around, but no one she knew was about. At least, no one who would help her. Her siblings were all gone, as well as Harry and the brown-haired girl, Hermione. She looked back at Bethany as the girl continued. "And we want to tell you to stop. Or else." She said menacingly, or at least she probably thought that's what she sounded like. Ginny had heard much worse when a Hufflepuff had insulted Draco, unknowing that Elizabetha was right behind him. It had taken both Peter and her half an hour to calm the blond girl down. And he had still had his books shredded by the blond.

"What if I don't want to." Ginny shot back, and Bethany startled, as if she had not actually expected Ginny to refuse. Then she smirked.

"Then I'd say your brave. And that you don't belong in this house."

"Well last I checked Gryffindors house is actually _about_ being brave, not hating Slytherins you don't even know for no other reason then their house. Elizabetha's made more effort to be my friend then you, so yeah, of course I like hanging out with her more then you. Are you jealous, or something?" Ginny snapped, and Parvati and the other girl tittered as Bethany scowled.

"Well maybe I don't want to associate with some snake wannabe! Maybe you have no friends for a reason, Weasley." The girls snapped, and despite herself Ginny felt her eyes prickle. Bethany, seeing her reaction, continued. "What, are you trying to get in with You-Know-Who? Does the littlest Weasley want to be a Death Eater?" At that accusation, half the room began to mutter among themselves, and Ginny could practically feel what already delicate relationships she had with her house mates shatter, with just that. _If it was me, it would take much more to lose my trust in a person, I'm sure. How can they give up that easily?_ "I bet that's what your friend will end up as. Your friend the death eater. You think she's friends with you because she likes you? Ha, I bet she's just using you!" That struck a cord, and Ginny pushed past the older girl in tears as she rushed to get to anyplace private. When she reached the empty room she usually shared with a few other girls she threw herself down on the bed and cried.

When the tears had slowed to a reasonable amount, she fished around in her schoolbag for a pencil, and then from beneath her pillow produced a little black notebook.

Tom _,_ she wrote, her writing neat but blurred by tears. I'm sorry I'm crying on you. But I need to talk to you.

Moments later there was a reply, words in an elegant script appearing on the plain page as if written by an invisible hand. _Whatever is wrong, Ginny?_

* * *

Snape looked up as the door of his classroom opened. He didn't have another class for an hour, though. Or maybe it was the Potter brat, here to complain again...

"Hello, Professor!" A cheerful rasp said instead, and in came a girl with pale skin, ringlets, and dark circles under her eyes.

"Elizabetha." He drawled, setting aside the papers he had been grading. As usual, Harry Potter was hopeless. You simply do _not_ confuse blueberries with beetle eyes. They're totally different. A definite P. "What can I do for you?"

He actually liked Elizabetha. As much as he could like anyone. She was talented at potions, and polite, and pleasant in general. He knew most people thought she was odd, that there were rumors about her flying around already, not all of them kind, and she definitely was strange but she wasn't an idiot in his book. She was as crazy as Baba Yaga, but she wasn't absolutely terrible, or a total imbecile. Which was the best you could get with him.

"I was hoping to learn some spells that would help me defend against an, oh, say, hungry thirty something meter long snake that lives in the pipe network of Hogwarts. Just for example." He stared at her. _Crazier then Baba Yaga...?_ "What? Just for instance. Oh, and also because there actually is a hungry thirty something meter long snake living in the pipe network of Hogwarts. Don't tell anyone, it's a secret. So, any helpful spells?"

If he didn't know any better, he'd think the girl had been raised by crazy people. Unless she was, he didn't know her parents. And quite seriusly, if they had managed to produce a child like this, talented or not, he had no desire to.

"What kind of snake?"

"Big as hell. With sharp, pointy, poisonous fangs and a gaze that kills. Literally. And getting hungrier by the moment." She told him, absolutely serious.

"The killing curse is all I can think of at this point, honestly."

That and Sirius Black puns, but he wasn't going to tell her that. He had hated the man, but _Merlin_ , the humor stuck _forever_.

* * *

I love Sirius Black puns. Snape is right, they stick forever.

Sooooo... I haven't gotten any more reviews on the matter, so I'm just going to go ahead with the one I did get and have Narcissa as the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. That way she can fawn over Draco and spoil the Slytherins. Plus, Cissa is awesome. So thanks for recommending her, Toraach.

Anyhow... I'm sorry, I don't know any of you but I want to brag, and guess what? I got two new cats, Avaati (Orange tabby) and Bellatrix Black (Black and white), and they are utterly adorable! They like to stare at my fish tank and sleep on my keyboard and knock things over, but they're so cute I totally forgive them.

And that's all. Please for give me for all the butchering I've done to this series, and please review! Byeeeeee!


	11. Beware of Hair

Draco smiled as Elizabetha slid onto the bench beside him, grinning at him like she had some big secret. Today her hair was down in ringlets with a flowered headband, and a matching daisy was tucked into her buttonhole.

"Hello Liz." He greeted her, nodding at Peter as he slid in a few spots down. Then, to his great surprise, Ginny Weasley sat down as well, on Elizabetha's opposite side. "What's she doing here?" He asked, and Elizabetha shrugged.

"Nobody else would let her sit down. Pathetic, If you ask me. If I was going to bully someone, I'd be putting acid slugs in their drinks and lighting their shoes on fire, not just keeping them from sitting down... Or maybe slipping some henbit into their pumpkin juice... or using s cutting hex on their bed..." At this point the blond girl seemed to realize the horrified looks they were giving her, and cleared her throat. "Ah, anyway, I think she tried to sit with her brothers, but other people got in the way. Right, Gin?" She asked the redhead, and Weasley nodded slowly, still looking a bit disturbed by Elizabetha's earlier suggestions. Now that Draco looked, she seemed a bit nervous, too.

"Oh, sorry to hear that, I suppose. Even then, though, is this the best place to sit?" He shook his head when she started to pale, and quickly corrected himself. "It's not that I have any problem with you. I mean, I do, but that's with your family. If your name was Ginny Nott, I'd want you to be my best friend. Maybe. I dunno. But what I mean is that this _is_ the Slytherin table. If you're being bullied now, it will only get worse."

"I know. I... I know." She said, looking like she was bordering on whether to tell him something or not. "I just needed a break from it all, _now_ , or else... I- I think I'm going to ask to be resorted. Into Slytherin this time, or maybe Hufflepuff." Draco screwed up his nose at this, and she glared at him. "I know, it's not the best thought of. But it would _work_ , which is better then what Gryffindor is doing now. I'm loyal, and I don't mind working for something. And they wouldn't mind me coming to visit you guys as much. So if they say yes to resorting me, those are what I'll go for. Slytherin, or Hufflepuff."

At this point, Peter decided to toss in some helpful information, calling to them. "When my dad dropped me off, he said if I got put into Hufflepuff, I'd be walking home. So if you get in, tell me when and where and I'll have a car there to take you home, okay?"

"Oh, or you could come home with me! Sirius loves red heads!"

"Who's Sirius?"

Draco nodded. _Yep, just as I thought. They're all weirdo's. Wait until my mother hears about this._

...What? He couldn't just tell his father he was becoming friends with a Weasley, a Lovegood, a mysterius girl from Azkaban prison, and a... what family was Peter from, again?

* * *

Elizabetha smiled as she pranced down the halls, Draco and Luna behind her. She had no idea where Peter or Blaise were, or Ginny, which worried her a bit because of the bullying, but she figured the girl could take care of herself occasionally.

"So, guess what?" She asked them, slowing down a bit so they could catch up. When they failed to guess anything, she just told them. "Nettle and Jacob are coming to visit over the weekend, and maybe Mika. Blue sent me a letter." When the appropriate look of horror had crossed Draco's face and Luna had hummed appreciatively, she continued talking. "And don't worry, they've promised not to kill anyone, or spell anyone to the ground. Or at least they'll try not to. No grantees with Nettle. She may get the Gryffindors, because she doesn't like red."

Draco's face suddenly dropped the horror, and it was promptly replaced with interest.

"What do you plan to do with them while they're here?" He asked, and she shrugged. _Good question..._

"Learn how to sing down the moon next, and brew a bunch of Wolfsbane? Suck some blood? Maybe raid the library and do a bit of shopping?"

"So, basically, it's going to be a very interesting week?" Luna asked, looking the wrong direction, away from Elizabetha as she spoke.

"There is to be a half pixie involved. Of course it will be an interesting week."

And it was. If a bit rough and badly written. I'm terribly sorry about that.

* * *

Ginny walked down the corridor, hands trailing the wall. This seems like a good spot...

A few minutes later red was spattered across the wall and a... cat was hanging beside it. Why a cat, nobody would ever know.

THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAD BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR...BEWARE.

* * *

Elizabetha stood to the back of the crowd, listening carefully. Apparently, from what people were saying, someone had written on the wall, quite possibly in blood, that 'The Chamber of Secrets had been opened' and 'Enemies of the hair, beware.' It sounded like some nice slant rhyming, to her. But she had no idea why she was supposed to beware of hair. She wasn't really an enemy of it, though, so she was probably fine. _Wait... oh, that says heir, not hair. Oops. My mistake, sorry._

"Heh. Let's see how Potter deals with this!" Draco crowed. Beside him Blaise nodded, and Peter shrugged. And behind him, even Crabbe and Goyle were smirking.

"Oh, he'll probably start freaking out, and try to find the real culprit. Maybe he'll think it's you Dragonfly, and use some overly complicated method to find out. Pollyjuice, maybe. Hey, what's the Chamber of Secrets?" She asked, and Draco stared at her.

"Um." He looked like he couldn't figure out what to reply to. "You don't know the story of Salazar Slytherin and the Chamber of Secrets?" He eventually asked her, and she scowled.

"Well if I did, I very well wouldn't be asking, now would I?"

"Point made. Alright, grab Ginny and come to the common room, I'll tell the story. And bring those fizzy candies, too."

About ten minutes and two dozen fizzy wizzys later, Draco told the tale of the Chamber of Secrets.

"Long ago, there were four founders of Hogwarts. Godric Gryffindor, Helga Hufflepuff, Rowena Ravenclaw, and Salazar Slytherin. Now, there are are rumors about a fifth founder, but all I remember about those are something about nightmares, lords and raw fish, so I'm going to just happily ignore that. Anyhow, back then, the four founders got along well, except for one thing. Salazar disliked the muggleborns that Hogwarts allowed to attend. So, before he died, he built a secret chamber deep in Hogwarts, called, well... The Chamber of Secrets. He wasn't the most creative, I suppose. Anyhow, legend says that there is a monster, a great beast within the chamber, that only the heir of Salazar Slytherin himself can control, and that when that heir comes, they will chase all the mudbloods from Hogwarts. And yes, I know I told that story terribly, but give me a break. I'm twelve." With that not so grande finish, Draco plopped down onto a couch next to Mina, who had come along. Most other students were still out of the common room and dorms, wandering and talking about the nights alarming events, or taking advantage of the confusion of the night to do who knows what.

"Personally, I think the name is lovely. It has a nice ring to it. However, you're right, Dragonfly. It's a bit basic, isn't it?" Elizabetha commented. Then Mina decided to put her piece in.

"Well, what else would you call it?" She asked. Internally, Elizabetha chuckled evilly.

"Why, the Chamber of Finatrixiebellianabethaniti, of course. What else?"

"...That makes no sense, whatsoever."

Draco shrugged. "She's Liz. Sense means little to nothing to her. Usually nothing."

"I find it only fair to you to mention that the snake is currently listening to this conversation. And also, I know you wrote that message, Gin. But really good use of slant rhyming!" Once Elizabetha had finished, silence reigned for a few short moments before:

"...How. The. Fuuuuu-"

"Language, Ginny! I've told you, you're too young and innocent for such things!"

"I am not innocent!"

"You are too!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

Peter seemed to think this was the ideal moment to interrupt with "What the hell is happening?"

"I honestly don't know," Elizabetha answered. "but Gin, it is advised that the next time you feel the urge to write creepy messages in blood on the walls, make sure the people who see it don't often double check your homework for spelling errors. That, or just use your other hand. Your normal writing is too recognizable."

This time, it was Blaise that commented. "Excuse me, but Draco's just fainted."

* * *

I figured that something might as well happen already, so here. Have some actual plot. Feast on it, my children.

...I'm sorry, I know that was creepy.

And by the way, I'm also sorry if I pick on the Gryffindors a lot. Ren complained about that and I'm sorry, they're just the easiest to write into that position. Like, Elizabetha would probably really like Ravenclaws, what with Luna and all, and I myself actually like Hufflepuff, so really Gryffindor is the only option here. I'm sorry if any of you like them, I'm not trying to be mean. I actually do like some of them. I just happen to hate their color scheme.

Thanks for reading, please review so I have some inspiration to write more, and byeeeeee!


	12. Flowers and Evil Overlords

Nettle flit about, keeping a close eye on the werewolf as he smelled the air, and the other on the forest around her. Mikaela stood behind the werewolf, and she saw his red eyes look about, watching for trouble. No one wanted to be caught, not now, when they were finally out for a bit.

It had been years since she was out of the cold dark place. The place with the things in black, and the mean humans, and the little cloud that talked. The little cloud was funny, in that it wasn't white, or cream, or even grey, but a warm, honey colored gold. Not a cloud color. Yet it certainly spoke like a cloud. Like half formed thunder, and bits of hail scratching against each other, and wind dragging branches on human windows.

"Hello, Nettle." The cloud would say, rain pelting a rough surface. She had no idea how a cloud had learned her name, but she didn't care. It had been years since she saw anyone else besides the human things, The black things, the harsh things, the things that took her happiness away. And even longer since they had spoken her name like she was alive.

So she would answer. Answer however it suited her at the time.

"Magic is magic."

"You're such a pretty cloud."

It wasn't always said with a peaceful face, though. Nettle was rarely peaceful in that place, with the sickness and cold and dirty, dirty bars. She sobbed, sometimes.

"Why did you have to take me?"

"Where's my mother? My Father? Where?"

And yelled.

"I want my magic back!"

"Let me out!"

"It hurts! Stop it!"

And the cloud always smiled. Like it understood. And like it was sorry.

"I want to sing again! Let me out, let me out to sing! I- I want my Mommy!" She would shriek. And the cloud would answer:

"Shhhhh, shhhhh, smooth your crest and still your wings. I want my mother too." And that would always still her. And she would ask, and the cloud would tell her how she had never known her mother, and that she had never needed her, but still she sometimes wanted her, because it felt weird not to have a mother cloud. "I don't need one. Or really, really want one. I have you, and Siri, and Mora, and Mao. But I kind of want one. Someone to cry over, like you do."

The cloud had plenty to cry over, Nettle thought. It was in this place, after all. Though, it never cried. It sniffled, which Nettle had never known a cloud could do, and it whimpered, like wind whining through trees. But it never cried, never rained. It sniffled when Mao died, and it whimpered when Mama Crouch did too. And it prayed that she never would.

Eventually, she found out that the cloud had a name. Elizabetha. And that Elizabetha liked this place, because to Elizabetha, it was home. And she learned that Elizabetha always understood. Always. The other humans, the ones that had brought her here, and the ones at Watford, had never understood. Never understood that she couldn't help it. She wasn't wired right. It wasn't her fault.

"She's this way." The werewolf suddenly announced, making Nettle jump. And she chirped in reply, telling him thanks.

If Elizabetha was going to understand, then that meant that she must be Nettle's best friend. Or rather, she already _was_ Nettle's best friend. So Nettle wanted to tell the cloud that.

Then she heard someone yelling narnia.

xXx

* * *

"Um- too much sugar?" Elizabetha guessed as Poppy stared her down. Behind the witch, Draco Malfoy lay on an infirmary bed, still unconscious. Around Elizabetha, all who had been present at the fainting stood, nodding in agreement. Most of them looked too obviously guilty though.

"And are you certain?" Poppy asked carefully. Elizabetha shook her head. _Is that good or not?_ Poppy wondered.

"No. Not really. Um, we may have dropped a bit of surprising information." Poppy had just opened her mouth when the Slytherin girl continued. "No, don't ask. And he, well, fainted. But really, I think the sugar helped."

"I see." The mediwitch gave her a cool look. "Well, he'll be fine in a few hours. You, on the other hand," Poppy had been hoping for a chnce to check Elizabetha over for quite some time, ever since she first saw the obviously malnourished and under slept girl. "could use some rest, and I'll be wanting to know your diet, and- Hey! Get back here, Elizabeth!" While she was busy speaking, Elizabetha had started running the moment diet was mentioned.

"It's Elizabetha, not Elizabeth, and I WILL NEVER GIVE UP FIZZY WIZZY'S." Poppy didn't even have time to decipher _what the heck that even meant_ , before the last bit of blonds curls disappeared out the door, and Poppy was left with the other children, all in stunned silence.

"Was that-"

"Normal?" Ginny Weasley suggested. "Not really, but for her, yes, fairly so."

Blaise Zabini helpfully chimed in. "Yeah, Lizzy's a bit of an oddball. Nice, yes, but totally insane. Why, just the other day, I caught her talking to a pebble. Just an ordinary pebble, albeit rather a large and pointy one. She said she wished it good luck, and good aim. Then she threw it at a Gryffindor that had been insulting professor Snape. Hard. And she danced around chanting in Gobbledegook when it hit. She's quite... interesting."

"And absolutely mad." A boy with brown hair and freckles she didn't recognize chimed in. "But lovable, and oddly charming. I look forward to seeing what she'll turn out as."

"Probably reigning monarch of pretty flowers and dark evil overlords." A girl, who looked similar to the boy, replied. _Siblings, I bet,_ Poppy decided. "And werewolves, and Fizzy Wizzy's, apparently."

At this point, Poppy had ultimately concluded that Elizabetha was the strangest child she had ever met, give or take a bit. There had been some very odd incidents involving Gryffindors and drugging potions, in her experience, but she was hoping this girl wasn't high. Or maybe she was hoping she was.

Behind her, Poppy heard a cough, and turned to see Draco Malfoy sitting up and smoothing his hair with a look of confusion.

"Ughhhh... You forgot mischief makers in general." He groaned, his words slurred and sleepy sounding. "Also, someone knock me out again, my mind can't process it being Ginny Weasley, of all people." That made absolutely no sense to Poppy, so she just gave him a few potions and left the students to converse among themselves. She was weirded out enough for the day, thank you very much.

Meaning that any moment now, Harry Potter would drag himself in, and Semus Finnigen would make something explode.

Such was her luck.

* * *

Far away from the infirmary, across Hogwarts, Elizabetha was on a roof with a broom. Wordlessly, she dropped off, before swooping back up, one hand held aloft in a fist.

"FOR NARNIAAAAAAA!"

Moments later, a blur with a feathery white crest and insect like wings barreled into her.

"Oh. Hello Nettle. Fancy seeing you here."

* * *

There are quite a few crossovers and references in this story, so have fun trying to spot them. This chapter has two rather obvious ones, of course, and the one before this had a reference to one of my favorite dark harry fics. See if you get it!

Also... Toraach, I love your reviews. Here's a response to one of them: _Yeah, most of the Gryffindors were as prejudiced as the Slytherins were, and sometimes with less reason. I mean, I'm not saying I agree with it because in this case it's not, but usually, blood purity_ would _be a fair theory, so I can see where the logic of most Slytherins lies. They have reasons to be prejudiced, whereas Gryffindors just seem to hate people in Slytherin for no apparent reason other then their house. I mean, there are bound to be flaws in my opinion, I know, but that's how I see it._

 _As for Ginny and Draco having a crush on each other... that's actually not a bad idea. I was thinking about maybe matching Elizabetha and him while writing early on, but as her character developed I started to think maybe_ not _. Also, since you always review so nicely, who do you think Ginny should go to, Slytherin or Hufflepuff?_

 _As for the rest, thanks, and YES. Narcissa is awesome, I don't know why more people don't like her. She doesn't get much screen time, but she was a great witch nonetheless._

Anyhow, I promise, cross my heart and hope for a pretty dementor to give me a kiss, that the Chamber will be coming up soon. So, in the meantime, please read 'Harry Potter and The Accidental Horcrux' and anything by 'The Fictionist' because A) It will give me time to write this, and B) They're awesome.

So. Thank you for reading this, and byeeeeee!


	13. Worse Then Neville, Actually

Elizabetha grinned as Nettle flew happily around her, feather like hair rising like a birds crest would and blue eyes bright with exitement.

"Found 'er, found 'er, found'erfound'erfound'er! Werewolf, I found 'er! Yay!" The half pixie trilled, and when Elizabetha tilted her head to see past her broom handle, she saw the familiar shape of Jacob and one other on the ground.

"Hey! Finatrixiebellianabethaniti!" She called, and even in the air she could see him scowl.

"What's with you and that name? Is it even a name?" He shouted back, and she shrugged before heading down, Nettle fluttering right behind her and cooing about the weather. When she touched down she was practically bowled over by the werewolf, and he was soon followed by a familiar vampire.

"Jacob! Mikaela! Hello! Oh, Nettle, please don't bite." The other girl bared her needle point teeth at Elizabetha in a grin, before jolting away and starting to mumble to herself. "Oh, good, you're still crazy. I was worried some plot miracle would occur and the fresh air would somehow help, or my love would somehow cure you, but it looks like you'll remain mentally unstable forever. Thank goodness."

"Pixies don't do _not_ crazy." Mikaela chimed in helpfully.

"Yeah, they really don't, do they? So, how have you been, Mika?" She asked the vampire, and he grinned up at her, bright red eyes flashing.

"I ate. I missed eating." Just then Elizabetha noticed the red smudge on his lips, and winced. _I probably should fix this, somehow... But who cares, he probably just bit some homeless guy._

The blond vampire had actually bitten Gildaroy Lockhart, who had indeed been a homeless man at the moment, due to having been exposed as a fake by a certain trio of eleven year old's, something that had destroyed his career, but no one really cared at this point. Especially not Mikaela.

"Well that's lovely. You, uh, you got something right there..." She told the vampire, and as he was busy washing his face with a curled hand, like he actually _was_ some porcupine cat hybrid, she turned to Jacob. "So _hey_ , Jacob, do you have any interest in tracking down a huge hungry snake with me? Oh, but before that, you'll need to meet my friends! Wait here!" With that she grabbed her broom from Nettle, who had been staring at it intently for the past few minutes, and mounted it.

"Noooooo!" The half pixie wailed after her. "Cloud come baaaaaack!"

 _Oh, Luna is going to_ love _her._

* * *

Harry practically choked on his laughter as he dragged Ron into the infirmary. The redhead had apparently decided it was a great idea to try insulting professor Snape in front of Elizabetha. She had thrown a rock at his head, and given him a concussion, that he continued to deny until he passed out during potions, much to Snape's disgust. And to Harry's sick delight at the irony.

Elizabetha, or as Harry preferred to think of her, the Ruling Monarch of all Things Mad, had already acquired a reputation for being fiercely protective of her little circle. What surprised Harry was how Ginny had somehow wormed her way in, and Luna. Well, with Luna it was actually quite obvious. Insanity loves company, and birds of a feather certainly flock together. Ginny, however, had always seemed... well, _sane_ , for lack of a better word.

Anyhow, the fact remained, Ron had just been stupid when he did what he did. To be honest, Harry loved Ron dearly, and all that, but he rather thought he deserved that rock to the head for his stupidity.

"What're you laughing about, Potter?" A cross voice demanded. _Wait. That sounds familiar..._ He turned his head. _Huh. Do I laugh or do I cry?_ Harry wondered as he caught sight of Malfoy, glaring at him from one of the beds. _And do I answer honestly or not... what the hell, things are weird enough around here, I might as well just add to it._

"That girl you hang out with, the one who calls you a dragonfly, nailed Ron in the head with a rock. He just blacked out in potions and fell into his cauldron, face first. He's gonna have detention until he graduates, I bet." Harry laughed at the utter ridiculousness of it, and a few moments later Malfoy joined in, snickering.

"Elizabetha? Impressive. I knew she had good aim." He paused for a moment. "Tell me, Potter, aside from her deadly accuracy with rocks, what do you think of Lizzy?" To his surprise, the blond seemed genuinely curious. But Slightly disgusted at the same time. But curious. So Harry lugged Ron onto a nearby bed and considered it.

"I- I think she's absolutely bonkers," Malfoy snickered again. "but nice. A nice kind of bonkers." Harry decided, nodding to himself.

"Do you? What else?"

"She's good at what she does, I guess. I mean, I've seen her flying a few times, going out the windows, and she's good. Though she breaks a lot of windows. Snape mentioned her, so she must be really good at potions, too. And Ron told me that Ginny told him that she was the one who pointed out professor Lockhart as a phony. She seemed to know her stuff, back in the bookstore." Malfoy nodded.

"Yeah. By the way, the weasel's waking up." _Hm?_

Harry turned just in time to see Ron sit blearily up, rubbing with his fists at his eyes like a little child.

"Harry? Mate? Wot're you doin'?" The redhead mumbled, before his vision cleared and he saw Malfoy.

"Harry, what's that doing here?" He demanded, and internally Harry sighed. _Ron, dear, I know we don't like him, but he does have a name, and it's not_ That.

"For your information, Elizabetha may have done something more surprising then usual, and I may have fainted, and stop that smirking, weasel." Ron was indeed smirking. And giggling. Then again, so was Harry. The idea of Malfoy fainting was very refreshing. "The same thing happened to you, you know. Taken out by a little pebble, I hear? And one thrown by an eleven year old _girl_? Shame, shame on you."

That shut Ron up, and he scowled.

"Whatever." Ron mumbled. Then Poppy came bustling in, dragging Neville behind her. The boy's face flushed and blotchy, and he looked rather alarmed.

"Oh, good, another visit from Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley. Let me guess, another troll? Wait, don't tell me, is there a dragon loose at Hogwarts?" She asked dryly, leading Neville to a bed.

Draco kindly answered for them. "Lizzy threw a rock at Weasley and gave him a concussion, and he fell into his cauldron."

"Again? I swear, she's going to be as bad as the Weasley twins soon. Or, Merlin forbid, Neville."

In a miracle of fate, they all groaned at the same time. Even Neville looked alarmed, before promptly falling unconscious.

* * *

I have a feeling that Harry going to turn out a bit sarcastic and bloodthirsty in this. Just a bit. But I'm tired of reading stories where he's perfect, so there. He's going to be a charming brat in this one. And yes, there was a reference in this too, if you can find it. It's really little.

American Animagus, thank you so much for your review, I'm glad you like my story! Also, you're name is really fun, I like it.

Please review, they're like candy to me, and byeeeeee!


	14. Air, I've Missed It

Luna watched as Elizabetha nearly crash landed in front of her. She had just been reading in the yard, a book about wurmples and brownies.

 _She must be exited._ The girl decided as her friend scrambled up, grinning maniacally. _Very exited._

"Mothy! Hello! Hey, do you know where the others are?" Luna scrunched up her nose and blinked twice as she tried to remember.

"Draco, infirmery. Blaise, raiding the kitchen. Mina, also raiding the kitchen. Peter, raiding the kitchen as well. Ginny... don't know. Why do you smell like pixie dust?" She asked Elizabetha, and her friend shrugged.

"Oh, one came to visit me. Why don't you go grab the kitchen raiders and I'll fetch Draco, and I'll introduce you to each other."

"Is it famous?" Luna wondered aloud.

"Um, not really?"

"Okay. I won't dress up then."

* * *

Ginny wandered through the halls, one hand once again trailing the walls as she walked and the other clutching a small black book close to her chest. This time, though, there would be no messages on the wall. This time, she was going to do something much different, because there was no more time. Tom wanted out _now_.

Up ahead was a girls bathroom.

It was amazing she had gotten this far. Her friends were such good friends, leaving her to do as she desired without a second thought. Then again, it had probably never occurred to them to wonder where she was, even if they had just found out that she was the one who had written on the walls. They were ridiculous like that.

Inside, the bathroom were empty, except for the odd sobbing of a ghost girl with a too high voice. But that was confined to one stall, leaving the path she needed open. Ginny walked towards the sinks, and stopped.

" _Open_."

The hiss felt weird on her tongue.

* * *

Elizabetha ran down hallways, her hair flowing behind her in messy curls and feet bare because she held her socks and shoes in her hand. She didn't really like wearing shoes anyhow, she was too used to running without them. There had never been any shoes her size in Azkaban, and she had grown used to it since she was able to walk. In fact, she had only recently had clothes that fit her, and had before that ran around in shifts made of long strips of cloth with a hole for her head and sashes for around her waist.

She stopped by the doors of the infirmary and pulled the left side open before tumbling inside.

"Elizabetha?" She heard Draco call, and she looked around until she spotted him, right where she left him. Although this time he was conscious.

"Yes. Yes. Indeed it is I. Give me a moment, Dragonfly." She gasped. It had been a long time since she ran such a distance, even in Azkaban. She'd rarely had to seriously run in her home. It was always safe, despite not being safe at all.

Once she had successfully held a flood of memories at bay, she continued. "Ah, air, I've missed it so... Oh, right, some members of my family are visiting, I thought you might want to meet them."

"But I thought you were an orphan?" Someone asked behind her, and she turned to see Harry Potter, the Savior of the Light. _Why are both he and Draco in the same room, yet still both conscious... ah, I see, Weasley got the bad end._ She thought as she noticed the red haired boy laying on a bed. _Hm, something about that injury to his head looks familiar..._ And in the next bed, she saw the Longbottom kid who always messed stuff up. If she remembered correctly, some of the older Slytherins had started a betting pool on who would cause more disasters this year. Personally, she thought it laughable that they considered him anywhere near her level of disaster making. She had learned from the best, after all; Sirius Black and Bellatrix Lestrange. Longbottom stood _no_ chance against her.

"Mm, yep, pretty much. Uh, how about my more or less family is here to visit, then?"

"Werewolves?" Draco guesses, and she nodded.

"Well, among other things, yeah. Plus a vampire and a truly chaotic half-pixie-half-human-mostly-the-stuff-nightmares-are-made-of. Can you walk?" Draco nodded and calmly started shuffling out of the now rumpled white sheets. "I must say, you're taking this quite well." She commented as he stood and ran his hand through his hair, somewhat smoothing it. Silently, she marveled. _A Malfoy with their hair mussed. Wow. Bella would be cursing him as an impostor by now. Wait, he isn't, is he...?_

"Smiling on the outside, screaming on the inside. Close your mouth, Potter, you look like you're inviting flies in. You too Weasel."

 _Nope, he's definitely real._

"She just said there's a werewolf here! At Hogwarts! And a bloody vampire!" Weasley exclaimed.

"Yes," She confirmed. "A gold star to you for your amazing talent to listen to what other people are saying and parrot it back at them. And he's washed most of the blood off by now, I imagine, so he's actually not so much a bloody vampire as he is a ridiculously clean one. And oh, honestly, Dragonfly, your hair is fine. Now come on, and you too, Sir The-Boy-Who-Lived. Let's go!" As she was speaking she had grabbed Harry Potter's arm and was now dragging him with, Draco pulled along by her free hand.

Luckily niether of them struggled much. Honestly, at this point, she would have happily knocked the both of them unconscious and dragged their limp bodies behind her, if it meant she could get back to her family sooner. She had missed her family. And Azkaban in general. After all, it was the place she grew up in. Sure, she could take off her shoes and cast cooling charms on herself, and cast **Curl your hair** on herself every day to provide her with her daily shot of anxiety and great hair besides, but in general, it just wasn't the same. Her eyes still burned from bright lights and her ears still strained to hear screams that weren't there anymore and she still missed her mother's rasping voice. And really, she just missed Azkaban completely. Her friends, her family, her terrible meals. Maybe even Alfred. So it was rather nice to finally have someone visit.

When the door slammed shut, it left in it's wake one Ronald Weasley with massive issues to review.

* * *

Meh. There's no plot planned for this, but I'm going to just drag Harry into this anyway. I'll just obliviate him later.

I'm just going to explain the blood purity theory as best as I can here, because I got a review mentioning it and because it will be coming up in the future, but not necessarily under a bad light, so I want you to know why I kind of agree with it and kind of don't:

In the movies and books, blood purity is viewed as a form of racism, which it isn't. Maybe a bit similar, but technically it's completely different. Here's why; it is not saying that because the color of your skin is different you're not human, but instead is similar to being a purebred dog. Think of it this way: A purebred poodle is going to be better at swimming then some random dog off the streets. It is literally bred to swim, so simply because of that, it's going to be better at it then the street dog.

The way blood purity works is similar to that; if you were to put a pureblood who's grown up around magic and a muggleborn in a duel, guess who'd win? The pureblood. Therefore, they're obviously better.

However, this logic _is_ flawed. Humans aren't dogs, (Unfortunately, I'd probably like them a lot better if they were.) and there are fewer wizards then poodles. And fewer purebred wizards then that. Soooo... inbreeding would occur a lot in order to keep bloodlines pure. For instance, look at the Gaunts. They inbred so much they all went _insane._ The only reason Tom ended up so absolutely bad-ass was probably because new genes were introduced via his father.

So, in conclusion, the logic of blood purity _does_ make sense, but is flawed, on account that it doesn't take into account certain things. Of course, poodles are good at swimming, but the street dog is probably good at other things, and likely a lot more hardy. And it can _learn_ to swim.

Yet, not all purebred families dislike muggleborns because of their blood. More likely is this: Muggleborns have destroyed hundreds of traditions and brought just as many muggle ones with them. For instance, Halloween is _not_ a wizarding tradition. It was literally just included in Hogwarts to make the muggleborns more comfortable. The purebloods don't even know what it is, except that they're being forced to celebrate a muggle holiday. Imagine you were suddenly told it was mandatory to bow and chant two hundred words before every meal, but not given the reason. That's sort of what it's like for them.

Also, for the record, I think that wizards are better then muggles. I mean, sure, we're mostly the same, but they can turn into _cats_ and control _fire_. How is that not better!?

Thank you for reading this, please review and feel free to flame, because I'd just love the attention no matter how negative! Byeeeeee!


	15. Plot Holes

"Meet Mikaela, Nettle, and Jacob Koray. Thoughts?" Harry gaped. The ease with which Elizabetha introduced the three baffled him a little. He didn't know much of the wizard culture surrounding such beings, but the muggle view of werewolves and vampires wasn't very positive. Beside him, Malfoy raised a hand.

"Yes, I have one. I'm assuming the one with bug wings is the half pixie, right?" The blond asked, for a moment surprising Harry. Was he seriously fine with the things that were happening? Or had Elizabetha rubbed off on him, and he was now the cool, composed king of raging insanity and charming oddness?

"True, trueeeeee!" The creature in question replied, the wings on it's back fluttering excitedly. It looked human in some ways, and completely not in others. It was too thin, too long, too silvery, too pale. Paler then Elizabetha, with blue tinted skin, and the shadows on it's body seemed almost purple. It's snow white hair stuck in feather like spikes that stood up in a line from it's forehead to the nape of it's impossibly long neck. As he stared it swiveled it's head at an odd angle and looked at him with inhuman flower shaped pupils set in bright electric blue eyes. The wings, glinting like a grasshoppers, shivered and dust fluttered to the grass.

"Then would you sing for us?" Harry blinked at Draco's question. That request made no sense.

"You want me to sing spells?" The girl asked, tilting her head slyly. "What shall I sing for you?" She asked next.

Elizabetha raised her hand, grinning happily. "Cold and Raw the North Wind Doth Blow?"

Harry, at this point, wasn't really sure what was happening. So when the half pixie shot up into the air in a shower of shimmery dust and started singing, he was confused. Even more when the temperature dropped, and flakes of snow started to fall.

" **Cold and raw the north wind doth blow, Bleak in the morning early. All the hills are covered with snow, and winter's now come fairly**." The pixies was rough and rasping like Elizabetha's, but higher and squeakier, whereas Elizabetha's was a grated croon.

By now the snow was falling harder, a thick blanket of white in the air, and she repeated the lines once more before there was a flurry of flakes and the snow all blew away, melting once it passed the boundaries of the spell and touched warm air again. It started falling, like raindrops.

The half pixie was still hovering in the air, a giddy expression on her face that was almost like the first time he had flown past Hogwarts tallest tower. The first time he had passed human expectations, had flown despite the fact that it was impossible. She looked like she was finally back doing something she loved after having been parted from it for years.

"...So, how was that?" Elizabetha asked, breaking the silence, and the pixie shrieked with glee before falling out of the air and onto the blond girl's back, chanting 'cloud' over and over and baring her shark-like teeth.

"...Awesome." Malfoy admitted behind him. "I love magic."

Harry snorted. "Well worded, Malfoy." He said, and shrugged off the glare he got.

The sounds of approaching voices made him turn to see four people heading towards them. He recognized Luna, with her turnip earrings and yellow hair. And Zabini, with his dark skin and shaved head. Then he recognized another boy with tanned skin, wavy brown hair, and freckles as someone who often hung out with Elizabetha, and beside him another girl.

"Let me guess." The boy with the freckles called to them. "We missed something epic."

"Yep. Sorry about that Peter, I must have left a hole in the plot."

"Again? Last time you did that, we discovered that there was a killer snake slithering throught the pipes, and that Ginny Weasley, of all possible people, was the heir of Slytherin."

 _Wait. What_?

"Might I bring to your attention that Harry Potter is in our presence as we discuss this." Draco snapped, and suddenly all gazes were on him. Not that he noticed much, he was too busy thinking the following _What the *Bleep* Ginny? How the *Bleep*ing *Bleep* did_ you _end up the Heir of Salazar *Bleep*ing Slytherin?!_

"Actually," The last girl broke in, slowly, like something was just dawning on her. "Should we have maybe been keeping a better eye on her since we found that out? I haven't really seen her since we left the infirmary..."

* _Bleep.*_

xXx

* * *

"Huh. I am a terrible friend. Why didn't anybody tell me that?" Elizabetha asked. The group had agreed to split up and look for Ginny. She had taken Draco, of course, and also Jacob and Nettle, but left Mikaela with the other group, comprised of him, Blaise, Peter, Mina and Potter. Nettle was currently flitting about like a hummingbird, chattering away and cooing over mysterious lumps she found growing in the corners of the walls.

"You're not a terrible friend." Draco sighed. "You're only a stupid friend. We all are. Well, not me, I was unconscious. Plus, I honestly have no idea whether I'm friends with Ginny or not. But you know. I'm still perfect."

"You're not that humble, are you?"

Draco scoffed. "Meh. Humble would have you denying everything you ever did and passing it of as nothing. You could save the world and say it wasn't all you, that you had help every step of the way, and suddenly they'd believe you, and you'd be forgotten in a heartbeat. Best to take praise with dignity. And a little bit of smugness. But enough about me and my wisdom, how are you?"

"My friend is cavorting with a damned snake the size of Seattle."

"And?"

"I'm hungry."

"Well, personally, I'm wondering how you know what Seattle is."

"A book."

"Really?!"

"Yes, why so surprised?"

"It just... seems strangely normal for you."

Suddenly, Nettle trilled from up ahead, calling, and Elizabetha spotted Jacob sniffing as he walked. Of course. Jacob was a werewolf. She really needed to stop forgetting those things and start taking advantage of them. Elizabetha sped up and Draco followed her example. Her feet were still bare, actually, and made little sticking sounds on the rock. Her shoes were no longer in her hands, though. In fact, she'd forgotten where they were.

When she reached the other, Nettle pointed timidly to an open door. "There's where the girl went, I'm sure." Jacob told her. Out of the corner of her eye she noticed that his feet, also bare, had risen up on his toes. His back was hunched, and he had brought his arms in tight. _I love it when werewolves are wary. They get all... were-y?_ She pushed that thought away in favor of concentrating on the current events. Mainly, finding her best friend and asking her what the hell she thought she was doing. And maybe asking if she needed help, depending what the reasons were. Also, how to explain Draco and Jacob being in what was apparently a girls bathroom, if they were caught.

"This has got to be the oddest entrance to a legendary secret room _ever_." She muttered to Jacob as she followed him in.

"Quite possibly."

* * *

Harry has a bit of a dirty mouth, but not really, because technically, he doesn't swear. So there, I don't have to change the ratings. I just loved the idea of "Perfect Harry Potter" being like that when I wrote it.

I don't know what you people read, or what fandoms you're part of, but if any of you like Teen Titans, I just got into it, and can I recommend Dark Austral's stories? And Panruru wrote two really nice short ones for that fandom that are absolutely FANTASTIC and I'm still waiting for her to write more of one of them...

Ren's going to put up a new story here soon, so please read it, it'll be called "Beyond the Broken Bones." and as far as I can tell, it's very finely balanced between being fanfic and being original, but it'll be pretty good if he actually finishes it. He really prefers to write oneshots, so let's just hope.

Anyhow, thanks for reading this, because this is the first time I've had this popular of a story, and please review! Byeeeeeee!


	16. Fizzy Wizzy's Are Precious

Elizabetha stared about her, feeling strangely... disappointed? She had hoped that, considering how awesome the common room was, Slytherin's favorite founder had some sense of decor, but this was just... sad. The open entrance had dropped them about ten meters and onto a suspicious pile of bones that only served to remind her of Sirius's own extensive rat corpse collection. Seeing the amount of small rodent skeletons, she was pretty sure that if Sirius ever met the snake, he literally would shake it's hand/tail and congratulate it. Siriusly.

And then the trail of bones had led them to a circular door set into the wall, which Nettle had quite effectively blasted off by yelling **Break down the doors!** Then they had filed one by one into the room they were currently in, the one with the ghastly decor. And not the good kind of ghastly, like her rooms at Azkaban were. All that occupied this room was cold carved stone which, granted, didn't bother her as much as the ugly statue that took up the whole back wall, and the awful pillars, shaped like great unsightly snakes. _Honestly, whenever someone makes a statue of a snake, they look only at the ugly, muscled, and powerful side. They never think of the slight, elegant, deadly but beautiful side._

The only other occupants of the room were a young man Elizabetha didn't recognize, with wavy dark hair and darker eyes set in a handsome face. Oh, and also Ginny, who for some reason was lying face down on the floor. And breathing at an alarmingly ragged pace. After a few extremely awkward moments of staring at each other, the strange boy broke the silence, fury in his pleasant voice.

"Who're you?" He demanded. Elizabetha took a sharp breath of air, and prepared her tongue. This was going to be hard.

"I'm Elizabetha. The blondie is the Dragonfly of all Dragonflies, the one and only Draco Malfoy. The half-human-half-unspeakable-horrors with the mohawk is Nettle the unstoppable half-pixie. Beware, she bites like hell. And the terrified werewolf softly growling in the corner is called Finatrixiebellianbethaniti. You may have heard of us." She said it all in one rush, not stopping once to breath in between, leaving her panting slightly for a few moments. Jacob scowled at her. "Just kidding! His actual name is Jacob Koray. But feel free to call him by the other name. And you are?"

The boy stared at her, and she ran her hand through her hair tiredly. It'd been a busy day. "Look, I have no idea who you are but I'm pretty sure you have something to do with why one of few people I like in this place is lying there unconscious and- hey! Is she becoming invisible? Dammit, I was supposed to learn how to do that before she did! Kiddo, I lost twenty Fizzy Wizzy's over this, so you had better have a good explanation."

The boy looked absolutely baffled. "I- well- I- Hey, quite glaring at me!" He screeched, and Elizabetha glowered at him.

"I have a right to glare at you, punk. I lost sweets over this! Do you have any idea how siriu- sorry, serious- this is?"

"It's just sweets!" He yelled at her, and around her everyone did a sharp intake of breath, even Nettle. Elizabetha practically snarled.

"Three questions, or I'll set Nettle on you." The half pixie's crest raised appreciatively, and she cooed. Savagely. With pointy teeth showing. Nettle was the only person Elizabetha knew who could make such a motherly gesture seem so terrifying.

The boy scowled. "Fine. I'll let you amuse me for a bit. What are your questions?"

"One: Who the heck are you?"

The boy looked surprised, but answered anyway. "Tom Marvolo Riddle."

Behind her, Draco made a strangled sound and tapped her should, then whispered in her ear. When he finished she nodded, and again focused on the boy. _Well_ huh _. Apparently he's the dark lord. Baby Potter maybe should have double checked that he was dead . No pressure on me, just dealing with the lord of all things evil, according to the light._

"What's wrong with Gin?" It was hard to keep her voice steady, she was so close to squealing and asking for an autograph.

...Er, fighting him?

"It's a spell. As she grows weaker, I grow stronger. When she's dead, I'll be fully alive again." Elizabetha didn't bother containing a hum of admiration for that. And to be honest, no one was really surprised, aside from the boy who was looking at her like she'd done something strange. _What, am I not allowed to temporarily ignore the impending doom of my friend in order to appreciate some clever spell work? Yeah, I didn't think so!_

"Fascinating. I don't want to waste my last question, otherwise I'd ask for the exact spell, or maybe pester you a bit, but I have something far more important planned..." As she once more opened her mouth to utter her final question everyone held their breath, bated.

"Do you intend on buying me replacement Fizzy Wizzy's?"

"...Huh? Don't you... don't you want to save your friend?" Tom Riddle looked like his world was shattering. And, from the standpoint that he was most likely a manipulative git, it probably was. He'd thought that she was _normal!_

Elizabetha shrugged. "My sense of friendship is a bit... complicated. I just got some information that leads me to believe you may be a tad bit stronger then us. Then I tested you. Your answer was sufficient to provide an answer; you're at least smarter in general, if what you just said about your spell was true. I'm usually the expert on old dark arts, but you know something I don't. That's wonderful." He still looked kind of blank, although Nettle had apparently understood and was once again staring longingly as his body, needle teeth cutting her lips as she smirked. "I mean, I could orchestrate some great scheme to get us all out of this, but quite frankly, I'm tired, and if you're stronger then me, well... Draco, am I stronger then you?" Draco nodded, although begrudgingly. Bella had once taught her a spell to test magic levels, and Elizabetha had them all try it. Draco was high, as was Ginny and Blaise, while Peter and Mina were both only slightly above average. And, quite frankly, they had all been to scared to have Luna try, so she was to remain a mystery, if only for their sanity's sake. Well, everyone but Elizabetha's sanity. Hers was already long gone. She was protecting her understanding of the universe as we know it.

"See? And no offense to you, Jacob, but considering you currently don't have a wand and it's not the full moon, you're mostly useless. Sure, you're stronger and faster then us, and your senses are heaven sent, but a killing curse is still a killing curse. Actually, Nettle is the only one here who could do much damage to you. But to be frank... You fascinate me. So I'd rather keep you living. Plus, if Nettle went all out and actually fought, something I've only seen once, if memory serves me right you wouldn't be the only one caught dead in the onslaught. Last time she managed to kill dementors, which is technically _impossible_. So how about we make a deal? What do you need to survive without completely killing my Gin? I'll help in anyway I can, providing that none of my own are killed."

There was a moment of complete silence, interrupted only by the sound of echoing drips from farther back in the cavern.

"...I'm sorry, but how did she kill dementors? Now you've interested me, and..." Tom Riddle trailed off, a curious glint to his dark eyes that Elizabetha greatly approved of.

"I sang "Tik Tok, and they died in the wake of the horrible lyrics." Nettle trilled.

"What in Merlin's grace is "Tik Tok?"

" **I wake up in the morni** -mph!" Elizabetha clapped her hand over Nettle's mouth before she could properly start.

"You promised not to kill anyone!"

"I thought the dark lord was already technically dead? Is this not just a Visiting?"

"No, he is not just a visiting! And that _horror_ would kill us _too_ , no doubt!" Elizabetha scolded her, before turning back to the others. Draco had a horrified expression on his pale face, and Jacob was shaking his head. Apparently, he knew the song as well. Tom Riddle was staring at her as if she had just turned into a mermaid. She quick checked her legs were there before speaking, just to be sure. Suddenly turning into a mermaid wouldn't be the weirdest thing that had happened to her in her life.

"Right, where were we... ah, yes, truce in favor of not all dying needless deaths, aside from Nettle, who would survive simply because of the sheer stupidity cross genius of pixie logic?"

"...Can you find me someone else to take, then?"

Elizabetha grinned. "I have just the person. Wait here. Nettle, stay here with Draco, Jacob, come with me. Revenge will be mine."

Ten minutes later, a gagged Hufflepuff was being dragged in by Jacob, Elizabetha cackling as she followed. The poor boy was still conscious, and looking about with frightened eyes.

"Ha, revenge is so sweet. Insulting my Dragonfly has consequences, Sugar-fluff, and they're not all just book shredding."

"Did you seriously just choose him because you wanted to avenge me?" Draco asked in disbelief.

"Pretty much. Why?"

"Nothing. Just leave me alone for a bit so my ego can grow big and strong."

"Got it. So, Tommy dearest, what now?" Elizabetha asked the boy, who's dark eyes were looking at them with a gaze full of confusion.

"Well, first off, never call me that again. Now give him this, please." He told them, pointing with his still hazy foot at a small black book that lay near Ginny's body.

It took a surprisingly large amount of effort to force the book into the Hufflepuffs hands, probably because he had eyes and ears and it was rather obvious nothing good was going to happen to him. Also, it was rather obvious why he didn't go to Gryffindor, if his excessive shivering and begging for mercy was anything to go by. "And?" asked Jacob.

"Just have him write about himself in it."

"Huh. Alright, "Sugar-fluff", either write in this like you're a teenage girl with a diary, or I'll bite your throat out and make your death much, much more painful then whatever is going to happen to you could ever be. Okay?" Elizabetha was pretty sure the boy wet himself, but they had dropped him in a puddle before so it was hard to tell. _Note to self, Jacob is suspiciously good at this. Ask him later._

"Y-y-y-yes-s-s, S-s-sir!" The boy stuttered, grabbing the quill that Elizabetha had transfigured from a shard of rock.

Then he wrote.

And Elizabetha looked over his shoulder, because she was a nosy person, and also because she was bored. Jacob joined her, Draco was still busy caring for his ego, and Nettle had started to groom her crest. Tom Riddle was just looking about in bemusement.

Apparently, his name _wasn't_ Sugar-fluff, surprisingly. It was Marvin Sherwood. _His... his name... is Marvin?! Oh Merlin, now I_ pity _him... And I don't even_ do _pity..._ And apparently he had seven siblings, and a snooty mother and a pushover dad who always lost the fights with said snooty mother. And his siblings were all named equally unfortunately. Maville was the eldest daughter, followed by Melvin, the eldest son. Then two twin sisters, Missy and Mini. And then Marvin, then three younger brothers, Markitch, Marcel, and... Mitsie? Oh gods. She definitely pitied him now. Him and his entire family. Including his snooty mother, because she was obviously cursed with idiocy if she had named her children in such a manner.

When she glanced up, she noticed that Ginny had started reappearing, and Tom Riddle fading. As she watched, he disappeared completely, leaving a solid Ginny who woke up with a start, gasping. Then she looked back, and noticed that Marvin had started to fade instead, and behind him was a glimmer of a shadow of a boy with wavy dark hair and darker eyes.

"Huh. I have no idea what this spell is, but might I say it's really freaking cool?"

"Yes. Yes, you might." Came the smug reply from the shadow.

About another ten minutes later Tom Riddle was standing there in all his stereotypical perfection, Ginny was blushing at him furiously, and Marvin was writing for help frantically from the other side of the little black notebook.

"Mind if I keep this?" Elizabetha asked Tom Riddle, waving the apparently concious notebook in his general direction. "And can I call you Tom?"

"Not at all. And feel free." Tom answered, and she slipped it into her pocket.

Tom was actually having a deep discussion with Nettle about her education and her singing spells, which was near impossible with Nettle, so he may have not been listening to the question fully. Whatever. It led to an extra half hour in the dreadfully decorated room before Elizabetha and Jacob finally herded them out, squeezing Draco and his now near tangible ego out after them, before heading out themselves with Ginny.

"Well. That was nice." Elizabetha began awkwardly. Ginny snorted.

"Sure. Sure it was."

"Yeah. Um, Gin, could you promise me a few things?"

"What?"

"Well one, never do that again." Ginny smiled at her. "Two, promise to never name any of your children Maville, Melvin, Missy, Mini, Marvin, Markitch, Marcel, or Mitsie. Especially if Mitsie is a boy."

"...Agreed. Definitely agreed."

They walked in silence for about twelve more seconds until Elizabetha realized she had never gotten a straight answer from Tom about the Fizzy Wizzy's.

* * *

So... please review? I'm nervous about how this turned out...


	17. Slytherins Always Win Food fights

"-And then Tom became solid again and poor, poor Marvin became a book that talks, which I currently have in my cloak pocket. So, we now have living with us a younger version of You-Know-Who, a vampire, a werewolf, and an unspeakable blight upon nature, which is also known as Nettle. Any questions?"

Harry slowly raised his hand. "Yes, quite a few, actually..."

"Oh, Lovely! Shoot!" Elizabetha cheered.

"Where am I?" _And how the hell do I escape so that I can tell Dumbledore that Voldemort is now alive and currently hanging out with an eleven year old girl and her friends?_

"Hm... good question. Well, you see, where you are depends entirely on what you think of yourself, according to most of the sappy finding yourself novels I've read thus far. Just be confident in yourself and follow your passions, don't feel afraid of showing off your real self, and there you are. It also seems to help if you fall in love, or something like that."

"..."

"I'm guessing you want the more literal translation of the answer to your question?"

"Yes."

"My bedroom." _Ah. There is no escape, then._

"I was afraid so. Ginny?" The red head met his gaze, surprise alight in her eyes. She had been staring at Voldemort.

"Yes?" She asked sweetly, giving him a dazed smile. She looked as surprised as he felt.

"Kill me." She flinched.

"Please do, Ginny." Voldemort added.

"Now now, people." Elizabetha started, her tone much like Hermione when she was about to go into lecture mode. Harry internally screamed in terror. "We can't kill him. People saw us bringing him in here, if he was suddenly dead or missing, the conclusion would be too obvious. If we are ever given a reason to want Harry dead, we'll do it in such a way that it is untraceable. I know lots of methods to dispose of someone silently, some of which are _quite_ amusing and _quite_ unusual. Don't worry though, Harry. As long as you never tell anyone about what really happened tonight, I won't have a reason to do anything. Yet. Okay?"

"Are you threatening me?"

"No. And if I am, you won't even remember."

"Huh?!"

"Obliviate." Harry slumped onto the bed, making Ginny yelp and Draco cackle. "I'll be needing you to take him back to Gryffindor common rooms with you, Ginny. Can you do that for me?" Elizabetha asked cheerfully, and Ginny nodded numbly, still a bit stunned.

Eleven minutes later Harry was safely in his dorm with fake memories in his head, and Tom Riddle and the three previous prisoners of Azkaban had been left in the Chamber of Secrets.

"I _like_ her." Tom decided, when Elizabetha had gone. "I _really_ do like her."

* * *

Elizabetha sighed happily as she bowed and slid into her spot on the bench, and Ginny squeezed in beside her, sighing for a completely different reason. She had pretty much given up on sitting with the Gryffindors ever again, to the confusion of her brothers.

It had seemed like yesterday was never going to end, and then BOOM. Breakfast.

She went from nearly being killed by an alarmingly charming diary, to being alive and kicking, despite that said diary still existed, now as a person, (With extremely good looks, might she add?) within the span of a few hours. One would think she'd feel a bit annoyed towards Tom afterwards, but no, all she felt was pity. He must have been terrified in the diary, to pull something like that in order to get out.

"Wait, don't tell me, weird night?" Blaise fake guessed as they settled, and Ginny giggled.

"You see right into my mind, Basil." Elizabetha quipped back.

"Blaise. And I certainly hope I don't, I'm trying to hold on to my sanity for a bit longer."

"Well let me tell you, it's useless in the long run. And I prefer Basil."

"Since when?"

"Since ten seconds ago."

Draco deemed this a good point to interject before all hell broke loose between the two, being as he was the one with a currently impenetrable armor of self-confidence. _Hopefully. For his sake_ , Ginny thought.

"So, how's your family settling in, Liz?" He asked. It still occasionally surprised Ginny how non-jerk Draco usually was. She was still so used to Ron's tales... Not that they were all false, Draco definitely _was_ a huge jerk, but he wasn't so bad once you got used to it. _He's a smug, rich, rude ferret, but a tolerable one._ She summarized to herself as Elizabetha answered, a bright smile on her face.

"Well so far they've taken up occupation in the Chamber of Secrets with Tom. I think Mikaela's having a bit of trouble adapting, he's been in Azkaban for as long as anyone can remember. Probably since it's creation. So I'm thinking it's a bit of a shock for him to finally be out. He keeps trying to bite Tom."

"Just Tom?" Ginny asked curiously, pulling a plate towards herself and adding a few strawberries to it. She felt like a bit of mischief. And hell, she deserved it. She'd nearly died just a few hours prior.

"Yeah. Apparently he doesn't like werewolf blood, he says it's sour, and he says that not even Ferid would bite a pixie." Some toast and jam was pulled onto her plate next.

"Who's Ferid?" This time it was Blaise.

"I have no clue. Another vampire, maybe? Honestly it's impossible to get anything from Mikaela, all he does when you ask about his past is start screaming "You! You-chan!" and throw a fit." Then she added peas... Why they were at the breakfast table she would never know, but they would be useful in the coming battle none the less...

"Where do you even know all these creatures from?" Ginny asked suddenly. It had never really occurred to her that Elizabetha knew an awful bunch about dark beings, for an eleven year old. And not just from the book standpoint - Elizabetha knew the strengths and weaknesses that weren't written down. The details. She spoke the languages, she spoke of dark creatures fondly, with affection, and whenever they were reading on the subject she would occasionally pipe up with "Oh! Oh goodness, do they seriously think that running water scares vampires? That's utter rubbish!" Like she was indignant for their sake.

"I grew up with them, in Azkaban." Ginny paused in the middle of loading some peas onto her spoon. That had been pointed in Draco's direction with utterly _no_ reason.

"I- I must have heard you wrong. Did you just say... Azkaban?"

"Indeed. And don't you think I didn't notice where that spoon was pointed, Ginny dearest." Ginny ignored the last bit in favor of more pressing matters. A mistake, that was.

"...You grew up in Azkaban?"

"Yes. I must say, you are not too fast on the uptake this morning."

 _Oh Merlin. My best friend grew up in a prison?! How is she alive?! I thought everyone there was driven crazy by the dementors, and... and... wait... Nah, I can_ totally _see this._

"That... explains way too much."

"Catch." A strawberry, taken from her plate by Elizabetha while she was busy having her entire view on life as we know it shattered and then crudely pasted back together by a blond eleven year old, hit her in the eye. It was shortly followed by additional ammo from all in their present group.

"Honestly, Weasley." Draco smirked. "We are _Slytherins_. We notice when someone's about to start a food fight and throw toast at our heads. And _We. Strike. First._ "

Suffice to say, when Ginny walked to her first class that day, with Peter and Elizabetha high-fiving behind her, she still had pumpkin juice dripping from her hair.

* * *

They got her that night at dinner too. And they had mashed potatoes and vegetable stew with dinner.

She vowed to never get into a food fight with her friends again, for her hairs sake. Unless she could get Elizabetha on her team, because she's previously thought it was impossible to make it literally rain chocolate syrup, but apparently it wasn't, and that sounded like a damn useful spell to learn.

* * *

I just wanted to write something silly.

Thanks for the reviewing to the following: Toraach olhrmaxion and Rain. Also, Lily Evans, although I have yet to decipher your "Meh." And to answer your question, Toraach, no, Marvin is _not_ dead. He is scared for his life and trapped inside a diary, frantically writing for help. And yeah, Tom is totally out. I freaking love Tom. This is going to be _epic._

By the way, I do not own "Seraph of the End." Despite really, _really_ wanting to. It's probably a good thing though, because if I did own it Mika would be wearing dresses and Shinoa would probably get eaten by a goat, because I feel no shame in admitting that I _loathe_ her. Possible as much as Princess Zelda and people who ship Starfire and Robin. And that's a _lot_ of loathing.

Please review, even flames are welcome! Byeeeeee!


	18. Something is a Foot

Blaise was sure he had been waiting ten hours for Draco. Well, maybe not technically, but it _seemed_ like it. The other boy was taking a ridiculous amount of time to get going this morning, and most of it was spent in the bathroom, for mysterious reasons. Draco preened almost incessantly, yes, but usually later in the morning, after breakfast and before class. He wasn't usually that concerned with his appearance this early. And even Crabbe and Goyle had left by now, despite their freakish devotion to Draco, so that had to say something about Blaise's saintlike patience.

Actually, the reason Draco was sprucing himself up so early today was something that he had learned last night in one of his mothers letters. Apparently, Lockhart's replacement would be arriving today, and Draco's mother had told him to look nice because he'd like them, but nothing more.

"Come on, Dragonfly!" Blaise yelled, mimicking Elizabetha's nickname for the Malfoy heir. From inside the bathroom, Draco grunted in reply. "How long does this have to take?"

"My father once spent two hours in the bathroom, Blaise. This is nothing."

About ten minutes later, they were able to head towards the Great Hall, Draco looking the same pristine self as always, but slightly shinier, and Blaise shaking his head.

When they reached the great hall, it didn't take long to spot the people they usually sat with. Mainly because Elizabetha had apparently spelled her hair bright blue, making her _very_ noticeable. She, Crabbe, Goyle, Peter and Ginny Weasley were already seated, and another look proved that Ginny's hair was also colored, a rosy pink with a blue streak that matched Elizabetha's. Apparently, Draco wasn't the only one who had spent time in front of the mirror that day. Why they wanted their hair like that was beyond him, though.

As they approached, Ginny waved at them. "Hey, guess what? Professor McGonagall approved of the resorting! I do it this evening!" She told them as they sat, and Draco snorted.

"Finally. I have no particular fondness for you, but even I am a bit annoyed by your bullying."

"Someone spelled her hair pink last night and she can't get it out." Elizabetha chimed in.

Oh. So that was why their hair was like that. Draco sneered.

"By the way, who's the pretty new teacher?" Elizabetha continued, and Blaise looked up to see... _Wait, is that Mrs. Malfoy?_ Blaise turned, and saw Draco staring with his mouth wide open. Indeed, the woman now sitting in what was previously Lockhart's seat, with high cheekbones and white blond hair was definitely the female member of the Malfoy family.

"Mum?!" Draco squeaked, and Elizabetha sneered.

"Well, that _would_ explain your hair." She commented mock helpfully. When there was a lack of reply, she frowned. "...Hey, Blaise, blow on him and see if he tips over."

He didn't, unfortunately. Even though they tried twice.

* * *

"This is the happiest day of my life." Elizabetha calmly stated as she skipped down a corridor, Ginny behind her. They got a lot of stares. No doubt people finally realizing how awesome she was. ...Or more likely because of the hair. Actually, Elizabetha was still a bit annoyed over the hair herself. She hadn't wanted Ginny to feel lonely when she showed up for breakfast with pink hair, so she had added a splash of blue to both their heads, but honestly she regretted it, even if she wouldn't dream of reversing it and leaving Ginny alone. The blue cloud of curls didn't feel like her own anymore, and the alien color bothered her. She was going to change it back the moment they managed to fix Ginny's.

"Oh yeah? Why is that?" Ginny asked, stepping around a black cat that was wondering the halls.

"I get to meet Bella's sister! I've always wanted to meet Cissy." Elizabetha answered, smiling. Bellatrix had often spoken in her insane ramblings of her sister, who was one of the few she apparently regarded fondly. It was Narcissa, her husband, Voldemort, Elizabetha and herself, last Elizabetha had checked. "I wonder if she'll let me hug her?"

"Oh Merlin. This is going to be worse then Lockhart, isn't it?"

"Oh, look, a foot!" Was the closest Ginny got to a reply as Elizabetha gave an exited shriek and dove to the ground, grabbing the feet of a random passerby. _I love feet._

* * *

Narcissa smiled as the first years came into her classroom, some looking nervous and others smirking confidently. She recognized some of the children, pureblood boys and girls whose families attended her parties, or were good friends. Lastly entered two girls with brightly colored hair. She had seem them earlier, sitting at the Slytherin table and chatting to Draco. She wasn't sure how she felt about them, though, since she'd never seen them before and had assumed neither were purebloods based on their terrible manners at the breakfast table. Well, maybe that wasn't quite right. The one with the pink and blue hair, who she now identified as a Gryffindor and a Weasley, much to her surprise, had seemed to have some manners, yet only common ones. Like keeping her back straight and chewing with her mouth closed, which was honestly more then Narcissa had expected from a Weasley. And the other one...

As the two sat, Narcissa carefully observed the blue haired girl. She couldn't place her as a pureblood, but for some reason doubted she was was a muggleborn. So possibly a halfblood, or some combo thereof. She had definite manners, just odd ones. She had seen her bow to the table at breakfast, and she paid attention when talked to. She was undoubtedly the one Draco wrote so much about, Elizabetha. When she had read his letters she had been unsure of what to think about his new friend, and now seeing her made her wonder even more. Draco had described once as thus "She's odd looking and pale, with blond curls. She's got a penchant for all things unfathomably weird. Pretty nice girl, though. She threw a rock at Ron Weasley yesterday, and she hit." and apparently the odd looking part was true. She was porcelain pale and skinny, with little blue eyes made to look huge by long and thick eyelashes and dark circles. And while her hair was indeed curly, currently loose with one tiny braid on the left side of her face, instead of being blond it was bright cobalt.

As she watched a Gryffindor boy behind the two kicked the Weasley in the back. _How strange, that a Weasley is being bullied by their own house... She thought._ She was then surprised when the boy's textbook floated into the air and was mysteriously shredded and then burst into flames. Or not so surprised, actually, as the boy started sneezing as well, and she noticed a small movement; the two girls slipping their wands back into their pockets. _Oh. Well. Pity that one's a Weasley, she'd make a good Slytherin._ After a few startled shouts and sneezes, the event settled down and the room quieted, waiting for her to begin.

"Hello," She began kindly, tearing her eyes away from the two girls to cast her gaze around the room, quickly evaluating the occupants. "My name is Narcissa Malfoy, and I am your new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. Welcome to my class." One hand raised, the hand belonging to Elizabetha. Narcissa smiled kindly. "Yes?"

"Can I hug you?"

"...No."

"Dammit. Okay, carry on then."

* * *

I'm going to guess that some of you doubt Narcissa Malfoy's qualification for being a teacher of defense, so let me explain. I asked for reviews on who should be the new DADA teacher, and only got one suggestion, that being Narcissa. And I wasn't sure, but then I looked into her, and was like "Oh, hey, the supposedly evil pureblood mother is secretly the most awesome character in the entire series. That's cool." because yeah, she's kinda marvelous. And here, according to the Harry Potter Wiki page I looked at, are her qualifications: Of the three sisters, she's the second best duelist, (Bellatrix being slightly better) and she was capable enough to fight both Harry and Ron, so she's good enough to teach at least that aspect of Defense Against the Dark Arts, at least. Not to mention, she's a fantastic mother who loves her son very much, her husband is on the school board, and it seems like the kind of thing she'd do to use that to get the position so that she could spend more time with her son. Besides, she probably taught Draco some material growing up, so she has experience teaching. And while Cissa is a blood purist, she's not as outright about it as some others, and I doubt she'd be the worst choice as a teacher because of that.

So there. Narcissa's going to be the new teacher.

Notenoughbookshelves: Your name is perfect. I sympathize greatly. Aaaaand... It's not going to a be a family day technically, but I will be throwing in some more characters from Azkaban soon. On the other hand, that's a hilarious idea. Imagine, if you will, a couple dozen dementors flood the school and all the professors are totally confused, but I mean, _come on_ , they have to defend the students. So they start casting patronus charms left and right. And the dementors are just like " _Chill... out..._. we are... just here... for Eliz...abetha..." All the Professors understand immediately, of course, but kind of wonder, what did she do to earn an imprisonment in Azkaban? They ask, and the dementors go "What? _No_...! She just... needs... her Hogsmeade... slip... signed..."

And thank you lederra, too!

Please leave me a review telling me what you think, and have a lovely day! Byeeeeee!


	19. A Snake with Red Hair

"Good luck, little roux Ginny! Sretno!" Elizabetha practically screamed after Ginny, earning her the angry glares and hushings of many of the Slytherins around her in the common room. As did Luna and Peter earn when they joined in, also yelling encouragement, shortly followed by quite little cheers from the others, as well.

"Yeah, knock em dead!" Peter yelled.

"The nargles and I wish you luck as well." Luna crooned.

"Break a leg, Gin." Mina said, and Draco muttered mostly undecipherable, but sounding suspiciously similar to "Yeah, luck, weasel. Hope you get Slytherin."

As she stepped out into the outside corridor and the wall slid shut behind her, she heard Elizabetha shriek with laughter and tell her she'd better not be a Ravenclaw, because Luna was the only good one, and it would just mean bullying again. Something Ginny actually agreed with. All the houses had some competition going on within, but by far Ravenclaw was one of the cruelest. They seemed to squabble and push each other down at every opportunity, determined to be the smartest, even at the cost of someone else's failure. Although she also had the sneaking suspicion that Elizabetha would actually have liked that competition, if not for how Luna suffered. She seemed to take personal delight every time she saw someone else being bullied, despite protecting her own and never doing any bullying herself. Really, Elizabetha was a weird mix between being nice and being downright evil.

She kind of reminded Ginny of the twins.

Ginny finally reached the headmasters office, or at least the staires leading up to it. _Seriously, what is with the stairs in this castle?_ She wondered as she caught sight of Professor McGonagall waiting for her at the base of said stairway, looking impatient and annoyed. _Why so many? And how the heck does Crabbe stay so fat with how much exercise he must get?_

"Miss Weasley." McGonagall greeted her, looking more then a bit put off. Probably still upset by Ginny's request to be resorted. She'd practically jumped when Ginny first asked, and looked suspicious when she had listed all her reasonings. It had made Ginny remember how she had broken Elizabetha's quill in their first transfiguration lesson, and just given her more reason to do what she was doing. She didn't want to be in a house with such an unfair teacher. Even Snape only picked on students if they had actually done something wrong. "Just follow me, please."

And up the many stairs they went. McGonagall seething and trying to figure out a way to keep what was happening from happening, and Ginny trying to overcome her dislike for the woman walking up the stairs ahead of her. Both failed, in the end. The hat was still set on Ginny's head. And Ginny could only think of the way Elizabetha had nearly cried on the way back from that class.

xXx

 _Well well, what a surprise! A Weasley not satisfied with their sorting!_ A voice boomed and echoed in Ginny's head. That had been twice this year, and she still wasn't getting used to it.

 _Yes, I know. What Weasley wouldn't be happy to be in Gryffindor? Just me, of course. Well, please get on with it._

 _Get on with what? Nothing is going to change!_

 _...What?_ Ginny asked in her mind, inwardly panicking.

 _You heard me. Gryffindor suits you best._

 _You won't resort me? But...but I'm being bullied!_

 _So? Everyone is bullied. Do you think the bullying would go away if you were resorted into Slytherin, like you want?_

 _Well..._

 _You know it's wouldn't. You know it would get worse. You'd be a snake with red hair, and you'd be bullied on both sides._

 _But! Elizabetha would help me with the bullies! And all my friends are there!_

 _Yes, yes, Elizabetha would help. Which is precisely why you wouldn't fit in there._

 _That doesn't even make sense!_

 _Do you think Elizabetha trusts you to take care of her like you trust her to take care of you?_

 _What? Of course she does!_ Ginny mentally snapped, glaring so ferociously at the visible brim of the hat that McGonagall took a tiny step back,

 _That right there._ The hat answered. _That is why you won't fit in at Slytherin. Elizabetha no doubt cares for you, but she doesn't trust you, and you didn't even notice. And trust me,_ here the hat paused, and giggled a little, _because I've been in her terrible little head. No matter how long you two are friends, she never quite will. The time of her trusting has long since passed. That's why she's in Slytherin in the first place. She doesn't trust, so she does it herself, and she does it well, because that is her ambition. Oh, she can care, and she can believe a little bit in the possibility that someone is going to save her. But deep down, she know's it's already too late for them to try, and that they probably won't try anyways. She's past saving._

 _I...I...but..._

 _But if you insist! It'd..._

"...Better be Slytherin!" Somehow, Ginny wasn't as happy at those words as she would have thought she'd be.

* * *

So, did anyone get this? Like, did anybody realize that being resorted would just make Ginny's life worse then it already was?

Ravenclaw: The idea of a Weasley in Ravenclaw is just laughable, so it was automatically out.

Hufflepuff: Doesn't fit at all. Ginny isn't loyal. She loves Harry, but that's about it. She wasn't particularly loyal to Dean, now was she? She'd kill for her friends, but she wouldn't die for them. And she's not so much hardworking as she is talented.

Slytherin: Ginny is, simply put, not snake material. She has no particular ambition, and while she is cunning, she doesn't play tricks. She's too blunt to be a snake.

Gryffindor: Ginny is brave. She shows it all the time. This house does in fact fit her the best. So what if she's being bullied? So is Neville. So is Luna. So is Harry Potter himself. There is literally no place she could go that she wouldn't be bullied.

Yet she wants to go to Slytherin, so to Slytherin she shall go.

Also, sorry it took so long to write! I went on a little three day trip, and besides that I have hit some writers block, I'm not sure how exactly to take the story to the next stage. So this is like the ideal time to send in a request. It doesn't even have to be for this story. Anything to get me going again.

Thanks for reading, and byeeeee!


	20. Have Some Punch and Confusion!

Tom was, quite simply, bored. He had pictured getting out of the diary to be a great occasion, after which he would defeat Dumbledore and chase all the muggleborns and any others unworthy of attending Hogwarts out of the near sacred castle. As things had happened, he'd hardly left the chamber.

He was, safe to say, a bit frustrated. So he'd taken to teaching the werewolf wandless spells. And the werewolf was coming along quite decently. Nowhere near Tom's own level, but he was somewhat competent. He could cast lumos, and nox so far, that being all, but it was still good. Even more, though, he'd started to try learning to sing spells. He'd gotten some information and demonstrations from the half pixie, but it was little, so he'd had to make some up. Apparently, the magic was in the words, not the magician, for this specific branch of magic, making it unlike what he had practiced before. Wizards only had the ability to access the magic. The reason the words were magical was simple: they had been used so often in that particular order, that they had picked up bits of intent and imagination along the way. Similar to how one might imagine a girl running and dancing in the snow, surrounded by white wolves when they sang what the half pixie called " **Running with the Wolves** ," the spell caused a slight chill and ghostly canines to appear, pacing on the ground, around the caster when sang correctly. The lullaby " **Twinkly Twinkle Little Star** " was the same, and summoned a bright light from the sky to the caster. Certain phrases, too, picked up meaning along the way. **Stand your ground** literally made you stand your ground; you could not move. He'd used it several times already, on the vampire.

But he was still bored. So he perked up considerably when Elizabetha burst into the Chamber, dragging Ginny behind her. Others followed her, all of whom he recognized from that strange meeting in the Slytherin girl's bedroom, where he had met what was apparently his future nemesis. The blond boy, definitely a Malfoy, carrying with some disdain a platter of sandwiches. The Ravenclaw girl with silver eyes, a bowl of punch floating behind her and a basket of little cakes in her hands. The dark-skinned boy, who bore an uncanny resemblance to Maura Zabini, with a pair of chairs. And the two siblings, whose names he had forgotten, the boy also carrying chairs and the girl two bowls of what looked like salads. Then came more floating bowls, filled with various contents varying from strawberries to half raw meat. The werewolf, who had previously been trying to cast avis, perked up considerably as soon as the scents hit his nose.

"What's this?" Tome asked as the werewolf rushed past, going to sniff happily at the bowl of meat.

"A feast! Our Gin just got into Slytherin! And since I have this feeling the plot will all go downhill from here, I thought we should throw a party while we're all still alive! Because, I mean, who knows what'll happen? We could somehow end up at a beach, or something, for no real reason other then going through the motions of these things, and instead of bonding one of us would drown! Or maybe we'd end up at a festival and one of us would be touched by a human and turn into blue sparkles! Or one of us could lose a leg and fall into lava and then be reborn with a fetish for black things and choking and an inability to breath normally! You never know these things, Tom!"

"Or, in translation," Peter broke in before Elizabetha could make more references. "Ginny was resorted into Slytherin, and Elizabetha wants to make sure we have nice memories to look back on before it all goes to hell like Pokemon in the third season."

"...Okay..." Tom decided, and joined them, still confused but unwilling to ask again.

"As I always say," Luna declared as they started to eat. "If you can't lead them with logic, baffle them with * _Bleep_ *."

xXx

Sirius moaned, and halfheartedly banged his furry head against the bars.

 _Lizzy. Lizzy. Lizzy._ He thought, looking out the gaps between the iron. It had probably been only days since her last letter, but it felt like months, even years. And he'd barely seen the letter, all he knew was that she was fine, and that she'd made some friends, and that she'd turned Minerva's hat into a chicken. _Befitting of my heir. A natural marauder, even if not connected by blood. Lizzy. Lizzy._ He continued, sitting down on his haunches and pushing his black nose through the bars. Even with that information, that the little blond terror was fine, he still missed talking to her. He'd been looking forward to her going to Hogwarts, and had told her at least a hundred stories of his own time there. He'd been so looking forward to her feeling the magic of that ancient place. So much he'd forgotten to think of how much he'd miss her. _Lizzy. Lizzy. Lizzy._ The rest of his head followed.

Then Nettle had left and taken Jacob and the vampire with her. He'd wanted to go, but decided that fewer people meant less chance of being caught. _Lizzy._ His neck slid through, and he whined when his shoulders hit the bars.

Then again, the dementors had just told the three that escaped to tell Elizabetha hello for them, so he probably could have gone too. O _h well. To late to regret. Lizzy. Lizzy. Lizzy._ He leaned forward a bit more, jamming first one then the other skinny shoulder through and whining again.

He really did miss the girl. And he wasn't the only one. The dementors seemed grouchier, and sad. Madam Barthahew could no longer be heard shrieking every night. And on the last two full moons, the howls from the werewolves sounded less ferocious and more lonely. Bellatrix no longer screamed out of the windows. Even Alfred had become silent. It was like they no longer had a reason to scream and shout. _Lizzy. Lizzy. Lizzy._ His ribs rubbed past the bars and he could have sworn they were cracking.

Was Elizabetha the reason they shouted? He couldn't remember when he'd first been thrown into Azkaban, whether it was this quiet or not. He, at least, had screamed. He'd been upset, saddened by the death of his best friends and furious at both Peter and himself for letting this happen in the first place. And he'd just wanted _out_. Out of this dark, dank place where there were only waking nightmares and his own tortured mind. Then, four years that felt like four _ages_ later, a little girl had toddled past his cell. And he'd been so startled he'd jumped about a foot in the air. After all, what was a little girl with a chubby face and angelic curls doing wondering around Azkaban, of all places? Yet she kept coming by. for years. He learned her name, learned her past, learned how to make her smile. She'd become like a daughter to him. _Lizzy. Lizzy._ His stomach slipped through easily, but then his hind quarters caught.

His little daughter was gone. His little pup. _Lizzy. Lizzy. Lizzy._ He jerked forward, and he practically popped through, stumbling into the empty corridor.

 _I should find the pup. Lizzy._ He started off down the corridor.

xXx

I don't know why, but my usual little line thing that I use to separate different sections is no longer working, so I'm going to start using these three little xXXs until I can figure it out. The kittens probably messed it up somehow while climbing on the desk. If anyone cares, the kittens have taken to sitting here while I write. Or, in Bella's case sitting here, and in Avaati's case climbing on my head and trying to eat my hair.

A recent review: _Hello! First, I would like to thank you for writing this fic :) It's awesome, and it makes me laugh so much it hurts my abs xD Elizabetha is really amazing, though I'm not sure about what you wrote about her being "past saving". I mean, I'm not sure about the reason behind that. Still, I'm looking forward to read the next chapter :)_

Well, I'm glad you like my story! I honestly didn't know it was that funny when I first started writing it, but now everyone seems to love it, so that's nice. Nice to know at least part of it was funny and happy. Because I'm not kidding when I say it's going downhill soon. Someone _is_ going to die, and you people are going to be _soooooo_ pissed about it! As far as the "past saving" well that was basically my way of saying that Elizabetha knows she'd insane. She knows she's not normal, and never will be. She used to think that someone would come for her and take her away from all the death and darkness. Because while Elizabetha was raised in Azkaban, she was not fond of the dark, and I don't think anyone truly gets used to death, no matter how much they see it. Yet no one came, so she solved the issue herself. She found comfort in that very same dark and flirted with death until she understood every aspect of it. She started finding reason in the confusion, even though that same reason isn't strictly logical. Thus, she went insane. She saved herself, and is now past saving. And as for the next chapter, well, here! Have this one! Enjoy the references!

Thank you for reading, please review and feel free to request anything, I can still fit something in. Byeeeee!


	21. Who Spiked the Punch?

Elizabetha's head was pounding when she woke up, a nice, rhythmic ache that spread with every movement she made until her whole body was enveloped in sweet pain. And she had to move a lot, to escape the mound of bodies on the floor of the chamber. Apparently, they must have fallen asleep there. Elizabetha didn't exactly remember.

Near the bottom of the pile, Jacob groaned, and tried to shift, causing Draco and Tom to wake, Draco looking like his ego had finally dies down and Tom looking ready to either kill them all or demand coffee.

"Good morning sleepy heads! Don't worry, Tom, I know a spell for summoning coffee. Now where did I leave my wand... Ah, right, under Blaise's shirt. Got it! Accio Caffeine!" When nothing happened, she frowned, waving her wand experimentally. A crack appeared in one of the columns. "Oops, That's not right! Here, let's try another one. Wingardium Coffee-osa!" To the surprise of everyone there and conscious, a teacup suddenly popped into the air, splashing life giving goodness over the edge. "Alrighty then, there you go, Tom! Coffee! Also, do have any idea what spell I just used? I can't remember. And is the a goblin driving a spike into my head, because it certainly feels like it."

"I'm terribly sorry," Tom began politely. Even now he had remained pristine, apparently. "But it is much too early for me to comprehend what just happened, let alone your twisted little thoughts. So can we all just agree to never speak of this again, and you give me the cup?" The porcelain teacup was shoved into his hand in response.

"Oh good _god_." Elizabetha heard Ginny mutter as she stirred. "Who spiked the punch this time?"

xXx

Sirius trotted down an alley, his tail wagging behind him and the remains of several dead rats clutched in his long jaws. _This is fun!_ He thought as he sniffed the air, struggling to pick up the desired scent over the smell of the rat's cooling bodies. As he approached the end of the alley he looked back and forth before continuing. The only surroundings were the hurried but peaceful occupants of the little town of Hogsmeade. With a huff and a wag he went onto the main street, prancing and attracting several looks to the scrawny black dog with his head held high and rats dangling from mouth that was parading down the street.

"Here boy!" Someone called, and he turned his head to see a woman with brown robes and a kind, pretty face smiling at him. Well. A little flirting couldn't hurt. He pranced closer, and shook the rats in greeting. She laughed. "Quite the hunter, I see!" He allowed her to pet him, but only for a second before pulling away. She called after him, but all he did was give her a farewell swish of his tail and continue.

He'd already wasted too much time in getting to his pup.

Up ahead, he could already see Hogwarts standing against the early morning sky.

xXx

"So, wait... Muggles aren't the same as rats?"

Draco sniffed. "Close enough to it." and Ginny growled at him.

"Are not! Honestly, Lizzy, they aren't!"

"But Bella always told me they were no better then rats! Only that rats had more magic." Draco snickered. They were on their way to breakfast, heads pounding after whatever had happened last night, when the subjects of muggles had been brought up. Honestly, though, Elizabetha couldn't remember how it had happened, just that it had. Her memory had gone awfully wonky after the punch incident.

"Look, they're the same as us, okay?" Ginny snapped, and this time it was Draco's turn to growl.

"No, they are not! They have no magic! And they're _muggles_!"

"Wai wai wait, girls. They have no magic at all? I thought they only had less then rats..."

"That still places them at almost nothing, though!" Draco nearly shouted, gaining them several looks. Elizabetha fleetingly thought that maybe they shouldn't have been arguing about this in the halls before she forgot that entire train of thought.

"Yeah, but rats have quite a bit of magic in them..."

"Well, muggles have less!"

"Huh. Must suck for them then, huh? Being surrounded by magic and not able to use it. I'd be in agony if I couldn't sing spell."

"They get along." Ginny said irritably, and Elizabetha frowned.

"'Get along'? Is that all? If so, why not just kill them and put them out of their misery? Getting along isn't as good existence as some would think. Having a world that exists beyond your reach is excruciating. Death is far kinder." Ginny scowled, and Draco smirked.

"My thoughts exactly." Draco said smugly. "But unfortunately, the ministry thinks they should be "protected" from magic. And if they see any magic, they just get their memories wiped."

"Oh. Well, I guess that works. If they don't know about it, it wouldn't be as bad... but still... how do they live without magic?"

"They wage wars with machines that pollute the earth, and pretend to be better then all the other species they conquer." Draco answered, just as Ginny answered. "They find ways besides magic to get what they want!"

"Oh. So they _are_ like rats!"

"Are not!" Someone's enraged voice interrupted their argument, and Elizabetha looked back to see a very angry Hermione Granger. She'd been following the argument for a while, Elizabetha knew, but apparently found it now suitable to interrupt. _She's a terrible spy..._

"Huh? But rats do the same things. They think they're better then everyone else, too."

"But Muggles are not the same as rats!"

"Oh? Well wait until the cat gets loose and they get caught and killed by her, then tell me that again."

"What cat?" Hermione demanded, and Elizabetha smiled brightly.

"Have a nice nightmare." She turned and led her friends to the great hall, leaving Hermione practically steaming in the halls to be found later by Ron and Harry.

"What's got you all up?" Ron asked her, obviously unable to read her mood.

"Ron... Harry... I _really_ don't like her."

* * *

Meh. I know that the excuses are starting to pile up, and that I need to write more, but I have what seems like a thousand pounds of writers block weighing down on me, and this was the best I could manage...

At least it has a bit more of the plot in it, and a few hints to the future. I can hardly wait to write more Sirius. And more of a certain witch with a tail... (winks) This is totally not spoiler. Nope. Not at all.

Anyhow, since I was asked, my favorite characters are Draco, Luna, Bellatrix, Narcissa, Sirius, Good old Voldy himself, and Barty Crouch Jr. because "Lil' Barty" is _ADORABLE._

My least favorite characters would be Hermione, Dumbledore, Lily Potter (Harry's mother, not his daughter.), Cho Chang, Ginny, and the Patil twins, who I loath for reasons that weren't actually in canon, but in a fanfic. But screw it, in the fanfic the twins were downright rude.

So basically, I side with the dark or insane, and despise the light and logical. The dark side has cookies, anyways.

Anyhow, please forgive me for this terrible chapter. Or yell at me in a review. Your choice. Byeeeeeee!


	22. Pink Bunnies

"I'm bored." A smooth voice said, and Jacob looked up from his lap, where he had been staring for the past half hour trying to figure out how to cast aquamenti wandlessly. His eyes met the frustrated gaze of Tom Riddle, and he shrugged at the other wizard. In return, Tom scowled. "You're supposed to suggest something, werewolf."

"Well for one, I suggest that you try using my name."

"Finatrixibellianabethaniti?"

"...the fu- How do you even remember that? It's like a mile long and she only said it once!"

"Elizabetha? No, she said it last night too. In fact, she gave a very long lecture about it, from the origin to it's grammatical points of interest." Both groaned. The mere mention of last night brought Jacob near physical pain. At least he was better of then the other Azkaban escapees. Mika was still curled up in the corner, nursing a cup of what was hopefully not the blood of anyone he knew, and Nettle had yet to wake up from her fitful slumber. Jacob honestly wasn't sure whether to be worried about her or not.

"Well, how do you remember that, then? I can barely recall any of last night..."

"Last night's events are burned into my mind..." Tom answered, and his eyes suddenly took on a haunted and glazed look.

"Er... right. Uh... bored, was it? Well... why did you want out of your diary in the first place?" Tom's eyes lost their alarmingly glassy look in favor of dark excitement.

"Well, you see, as a child, I was completely taken up with the blood purity theory, and I wanted to purge Hogwarts of all mudbloods, because I thought them without their uses. However, while I was trapped in the diary, I couldn't stop thinking of mudbloods that were not strictly useless, and even of a pureblood who was. So, after a long time, I decided to simply get out and kill all the stupid people, instead." Jacob paused for only a moment before nodding, dearly hoping he wasn't considered one of those stupid people by Tom.

"A noble cause." He said as politely as he could.

"Yes. Unfortunately, to do so, I'm going to have to eradicate most of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor."

"Really? Why?"

"Well, Ravenclaws concentrate too much of book learning, and fight among themselves so much that they wouldn't even be good minions, because they'd just be fighting each other to gain my favor and get nothing done, thus useless. And Gryffindors are just stupid, period."

"Huh. Well, I'd suggest toning it down a bit. Suddenly having a whole house gone would be a major issue. But one or two gone a month, feel free."

"I can't actually do it."

"Why not?" Jacob had no idea why he was questioning Tom's reasons for not doing this when he should have been encouraging them, yet here he was, so he'd continue.

"Elizabetha said not to hurt any of her own in exchange for not setting a half pixie on me and helping me escape the diary. That was our agreement. I'm many things, but I'm not someone who breaks deals. I am not to hurt a Hogwarts student. Although I suppose I could purge the ministry..." _I'm near certain that Lizzy didn't mean all of Hogwarts when she said any of her own, but... Who am I to argue? We get to purge the ministry!_

"An even nobler cause! Any way I that can help?"

By later that evening, three totally unrelated deaths had taken place, none of which had _any_ connection to the occupants of the Chamber of Secrets, _whatsoever._

Plus Nettle woke up, and turned the walls watermelon pink by shouting **Pink colors my world red!** and then added a few live rabbits to the chamber with **As for me, I will follow the path of the pink bunnies!**

Mika promptly ate all of the the bunnies, and Tom changed the pink to Slytherin green.

xXx

Elizabetha smirked as she caught sight of a very familiar flea-bitten black dog lurking in the bushes at the edge of the courtyard. She bade a hurried farewell to Peter and Luna, who she had been sitting and talking with, and hurried towards the mangy canine. When she reached it, the dog shook the dozen dead rats it held in it's jaws, and wagged it's crooked tail at her.

"'Sup, Seri?"

In answer, the dog shook itself again, and turned and padded away, looking over it's shoulder once to tell her to follow. She did as asked by it, and what led to a far isolated corner of the lake, where the dog dropped the rat corpses and morphed, before throwing now human arms around her in a bone crushing bear hug and squishing her up into him with her head pressed against his own.

"Lizzy! Look at you! Why, you look like you've bathed in the past month! And you smell like it too!" Sirius exclaimed, his voice comfortignly rough and scratchy by her ear, and Elizabetha sniffed haughtily at his dirty hair while still in his embrace, before scowling against the side of his head and starting to squirm.

"Well, the same can't be said of you, I'm afraid." She told him before wriggling out of the hug and smiling up at him once her feet were securely on the ground. "Oh, Sirius! Are you really here? Surely you're a dream?" She asked, and grinned when he took advantage of her not so subtle set up.

"I'm Sirius, and I may be an absolute dream, but don't call me Shirley." He answered with a toothy grin of his own that showed off his blackened teeth, still slightly pointy from so much time spent in his animagus form. _Sirius smiles..._ She thought absently as she was swept up into yet another smelly hug. _Are quite possibly the best smiles._

She didn't have a clue that a few miles away, under an invisibility cloak in a little pub, Harry Potter had just learned something about Sirius Black he should have never known.

xXx

Harry couldn't believe what he had heard. Not even as he was quietly going back out the door and stumbling past Ron and Hermione, out of the little pub, and down the main street of Hogsmeade village, bumping past people who couldn't see him, and into the woods, until his found a rock and sat down, and just started to cry.

Sirius Black, the man all the posters were now proudly portraying, was not only Voldemorts follower. He was also the reason his parents were dead. He had been their friend, and he had betrayed them. _He had been their friend, and he had betrayed them._

Footfalls on dead leaves announced the arrival of his friends, but he barely looked up when Hermione pulled off the invisibility cloak.

No matter what.

No matter what, if he ever got a hold of Black, he would kill him.

xXx

I'm sorry for the late update! Please don't be angry! I know I used to write a lot more for this story, but I'm still in school and it just wasn't working out. If it helps, I'll be posting twice today, because I'm also putting up a little short story about Nettle, titled Always. I hope you'll check it out? Plus, next chapter we get to read about Ginny being bullied and Sirius moves down to the chamber! Plus Umbridge dies!

Thanks you for reading, please review, and byeeeeee!


	23. Excuse Me, I Have a Death To Plot

Ginny choked back a sob as she collapsed into the foot of her new bed, her still pink and blue hair splaying out on her old plaid blanket like an angry cat's fur. Which was quite accurate to her mood, actually. She'd known in the back of her head that what the sorting hat had said would be at least somewhat true, but it hadn't really hit home until a few minutes ago. Elizabetha couldn't be there all the time, and when she wasn't, Ginny was defenseless. Just prior she had been caught in the Slytherin room by a couple of snakes who had been annoyed by her presence in their house, and suddenly Ginny had noticed a lack of friends in the sly house. Elizabetha and Peter were out with Draco and Blaise, and Mina wasn't in sight. Ginny had soon been left defenseless and was bullied and humiliated in front of all the other snakes.

And she hadn't been able to stop it.

At least if Gryffindor she could just let it out without worrying that it would bite her in the backside later, and that she'd at least have her opinion considered. Yet here, she understood enough of the system to know that she had little say in anything, and that whatever she said could be used against her. There was no reason for any of the other snakes to hold back. She was poor, and her family had no particularly high standing in the ministry. There would be no repercussions. What little status she'd had before had been because she was friends with Harry, but for all she knew, he may hate her now that she was a Slytherin, and honestly that friendship worked against her in this house. Suddenly, she wondered why she had never noticed these things before. She must have just been so absorbed in self pity to not notice. The sorting hat had been right. She was a snake with red hair. So what if Elizabetha was in this house, and her other close friends? Elizabetha had her own life, she couldn't just cling to the blond twenty-four seven. She would be left alone occasionally, and thus open to the full brunt of an attack. Just the same as it had been in Gryffindor.

With Elizabetha there, Slytherin had seemed like the perfect solution. But as it was turning out, when she as gone, it was far from it.

xXx

Tom scowled as he observed the man in front of him. He looked to be in his younger middle years, but Tom could tell that some of that aging was caused by the obvious abuse that the man must have suffered. His black hair was long, matted, and _filthy,_ as was his beard. His body was starved skinny and hunched, his skin pale and covered in grime and his eyes bright but haunted, shining with insanity. In other words, his eyes alone were enough to judge him a Black. Tom was well acquainted with the Black family's madness from his school years with Orion, and the other boys eyes had always had that same shine.

Elizabetha had just brought the man in, and left immediately with the excuse that she had to go to classes, which Tom highly doubted considering how much she had been laughing when she left. Considering this chamber had once been his safe haven of solitude, it was getting far too crowded. He really had to fix that door. Although the half pixie would probably just break it down again. She'd already shattered two pillars and turned the walls pink again.

Apparently, his doubts as to Elizabetha's so called "honorable intentions" were shared by the new man. He was staring towards the entrance to the chamber with a look of disbelief and annoyance, also tinged with fondness.

"Hello. my name is Tom Riddle, pleased to meet you." Tom began stiffly, and then the other turned to give him a look of bewilderment before clearing his throat and shuffling awkwardly.

"Ah- yes. Mutual? Uh... My name is Sirius Black."

"Like the star? How peculiar." Tom answered, trying to be polite, though he wasn't sure why. Anyway, what was with the Blacks and their stars...

"Yes, I know it's strange... but I promise, I'm Sirius."

It took about a millisecond before Tom understood the joke, and against his will one corner of his mouth crept up in a tiny half smirk.

"I... see. Well. If you'll excuse me, I have a death to plot. A particular member of the ministry is being an idiot and needs to be taken care of."

xXx

Delores Umbridge stared down at her desk, or more specifically, the pink cup of tea that sat on her desk. The cup of tea just seemed... wrong, to her. She cast a quick look around her office. Her desk was in perfect order, her carpet still as pristine as ever, and the cats on the walls weren't making a peep, all lounging around in their plates and grooming themselves with the occasional small mewl of contentment. None showed any sign of distress. She looked back down again.

The tea looked right. It smelled right. The entire room was just as she had left it only moments ago when she had gone to see to some small problem with her secretary, Janie. But still... wrong. She cast a few spells with her wand, checking for any magical poison. Nothing. And many people had tried to poison Delores over the years, so her detection spells were perfect. There was no potion or magical poison in her tea.

With a small shrug she lifted the glass in a small toast to her cats, who gazed back at her with big eyes as she took a few sips of a the still warm liquid. A few moment later, she felt it. It was like as intense pain bloomed in her stomach as all of her functions froze. She couldn't breathe; literally couldn't breath, her lungs refused to work. Her sense of balance fell lax and she toppled off the side of her chair, collapsing to the floor with a dull thud and the shattering of her pink teacup as tea splashed all over her previously pristine carpet.

About five minutes later, Delores Umbridge lay dead on her floor. it was then that Jacob entered, chuckling to himself as he waved to the cats, all of who were meowing in distress after seeing their mistress collapse. Smashing their plates quickly silenced them, Jacob found. After that was done, Tom sneaked in as well, smirking at Delores' still form on the floor.

"I always did hate her. I've no idea how she acquired such a high position, but she's definitely on my list of stupid people regardless." He mumbled to himself, before turning to Jacob. "And do you know what the lesson here is, Jacob?" When the werewolf shook his head, Tom continued. "In a world where magical poisons are always an option... remember that Succinylcholine will work just as well, plus it won't be identified by spells. Anyhow, on to the next!"

xXx

Alright, so there's some proof that I'm still alive after all this time.

Succinylcholine is basically something that paralyses you. All of you. Lungs included. It can result in asphyxiation. I wasn't sure whether I wanted to use it or Botox, or maybe Death Camas, but I figured that since Death Camas is a poisonous plant it may be used in potions, and therefor detected by Delores' spell, and Botox is just so terribly unoriginal, so.

Really, the things I have to look up to write this stuff! I once had to look up how long it takes to burn a body, and once how long it took to give birth, even. If you looked through my search history, I probably look like some creepy murderer with really weird ships and a thing for pregnancy? I dunno...

I promise I'm not some creepy murderer with really weird ships and a thing for pregnancy, okay? Well, yes to the creepy and the weird shipping part, but not the murder or the pregnant thing, I swear!

Thank you for reading, please leave a review, and byeeeeee!


	24. Greatest Weakness: Christmas Decor

The first thing that alerted Ginny that something was wrong with Elizabetha was the rough, raspish screaming. After all, any screaming tends to be quite the pointer on such matters, but Elizabetha screaming just seemed even worse, somehow. If she could survive being raised by dementors, creatures that literally sucked the soul out, what could possible scare her?

The second thing that alerted her was that the blond girl was currently clinging bodily to her side, one arm around her shoulder and the other with wand raised, and her legs wrapped around Ginny's waist.

"Er... Lizzy, are you okay there?" She asked, to which Elizabetha shimmied a bit further down her side to whisper/rasp quietly in her ear.

"There's green stuff on the walls." She croaked, still glaring.

Indeed, there was green stuff on the walls. Apparently, the house elves had deemed it a suitable time to start putting up Christmas decorations, and so had hung wreaths and garlands along the corridor walls. Ginny and Elizabetha were headed for an early breakfast when they left the common room, and soon ended up in the festively decorated halls.

"... Yes, Elizabetha, there is green stuff on the walls. That's a garland."

"Why is it growing on the walls?" Lizzy demanded, still whispering. Actually, Ginny's side was begging to cramp a bit from her weight, and her still blue hair was tickling her nose. She had done it up in ringlets as usual, and they bounced against Ginny's face as the other girl trembled.

"It's not actually growing there." Ginny whispered conspiratorially back, having decided to play along. "It was hung there. By _elves_."

"B-but- but... _Why_?" The blond asked, finally deeming it safe and dropping off her human perch and back to the ground. She still kept her wand raised at the offending greenery, though, and took a few slow steps forward, her pale, dark circled eyes wide and suspicious.

"To decorate for Christmas. It's only a while away now, you know. In just a few days, we'll be going for break soon."

"Huh? What break? And what's Christmas?" Ginny froze. Did Elizabetha not know what Christmas was? Was that even _possible_? Someone must have mentioned it somewhere down the line, right?

"I swear, first muggles, and now this. What else do you not know?" She demanded. She might as well have a heads up.

"Many things. However, some of them are more pressing in my mind then others. For instance, one I always wanted to know, was that Sirius always mentioned getting laid, but I could never get him to tell me what that actually meant. He'd just cackle and tell me to ask him again when I was older. Do you know what getting lain means?"

Ginny then concluded that this was going to be one of those days.

xXx

 _In the pitch black room, glowing pale eyes met his, big wide ones that looked a bit too unnatural to be completely human. "Sirius?" A voice asked, changing halfway through the name from hoarse, high pitched and feminine to a voice that was hauntingly familiar, a high, boyish tone that practically dripped excitement. James' voice. The eyes changed too, from icy greyish blue to brilliant, killing curse green. Lily's eyes._

 _"Sirius Black? I'll kill him. I swear it, I'll kill him." That same voice swore, vehemence leaking into the previously playful tone. "I'll kill him for betraying my parents."_

Sirius awoke with a gasp and bolted up into a sitting position, his heart thudding away in his chest and sweat dripping down his back. He looked around for the green eyes or the owner of the voice, but all he saw was the chamber and it's occupants. A tangle of limbs on the rock floors where Nettle and Jacob formed a pile of pixie and werewolf, a great snake shaped pillar where Mika leaned, drowsing. A section of the floor spelled soft where Tom slept, breathing heavily and occasionally whimpering in his sleep.

 _Well. At least I'm not the only one with nightmares._ Sirius thought, comforting himself slightly with the other misfortune. _Wow, if that doesn't make me sound like a horrible person, then I don't know what does. Oh, right, the fact that I helped poison a woman._ He paused for a bit before shrugging and laying back down on the hard floor.

 _...Nah, that toad had it coming. One simply does not wear that much pink and not expect someone top kill her sooner or later. Oh, plus she was a major *Bleep*_ Was his last thought before his drifted off to sleep again, this time blissfully dreamless.

Siriusly.

xXx

Elizabetha was highly confused. Every since these "Christmas Decorations" had been put up, her friends and class mates were acting differently. Even the meals were different, with some of her favorite food disappearing to be replaced with various roasted fowl and cakes and some of the remaining foods were dyed into shades of red and green. She could hardly eat without her stomach eating at it was, but now she could hardly eat at all because all of the food was now too strong for her. And, somehow, the dye made her feel even more self conscious about her hair. Was even food mocking the blue? Was food capable of such things?

But most upsetting, was when she walked into Defense Against the Dark Arts class.

Mrs. Malfoy had decorated her classroom, albeit in a very upper class, sophisticated way. There was a tree in the corner, and a wreath on the door, and she had little silver bells for earrings that jingled when she moved her head and reminded Elizabetha of Nettle.

And Elizabetha found herself actually liking it.

Oh no.

This would not do at all.

xXx

...This is what happens when you forget to actually put up the chapter you wrote... Oops...

Anyhow, you know that awkward part of the holidays when suddenly, your family starts asking whether you're dating anyone or not? And when you're not, they try to figure out why you're not? And then you try to tell them, but for some reason they won't accept "Well, I'm technically still married to that cat from when I was six, but I have had a few affairs with an alien named Kisshu, plus there's this really cute boy in Code Geass that I've had my eye on..." as a viable excuse?

...Okay, fine, the cat died two years ago, I'm a widow. But whatever.

Also, since somebody left a review about this, I just wanted to say that yes, I know, everyone does have a different name for Blaise's mother. It's a very interesting phenomenon, sort of like the Let's-All-Try-To-Kill-Harry-Potter Effect. But I actually stole the name from another fanfic because I loved how schmancy and sophisticated it sounded. I don't remember which, though. "Rise of a New Dark Lord," maybe? I don't know. So don't give me credit for how awesome "Maura" sounds.

Anyhow, excuse my ranting, thank you so much for reading, and please leave a review! Byeeeee!


	25. Gift Shopping

Elizabetha was practically beaming as Christmas break came closer and closer. Blaise had finally broken down and told her what exactly it was after she nagged him and Draco enough, both laughing the entire time, and she'd instantly brightened up once she realized that this meant going back to the dementors and prisoners, even for just a little while. She'd been missing the cold and emptiness far too much, the feeling of struggling for her life even when she wasn't in any real danger. Although the whole Christmas thing did still confuse her. What, exactly, were people celebrating?

The decorations and general cheeriness that had taken over the castle still remained and bothered her, but she sure as hell wasn't going to let an opportunity to go back to Azkaban slip through her thin fingers just because of some anxiety about this strange new holiday. Besides, she had found herself becoming reluctantly fond of the silver bells tinkling in Mrs. Malfoys ears, and the tree decorated with silver and green balls of light that sat in a corner of the Slytherin common rooms, even if the food still caused her to gag and throw it all back up later. And the coming of the snow had delighted her, she'd loved being able to slip off her shoes and stockings and running through it until her toes tingled in a painful and familiar way, and her still blue hair became stiff and clumped from the white flakes.

It was now the last day before she could go back home, and she was gleefully throwing her dresses and other things into her trunk. Both Peter and Mina had given them all little silver boxes yesterday, and she paused to stare at her two for a moment before putting them in with the rest. Apparently, they were gifts, just like she got on her birthday, and her other friends had all promised to send her more on the actual Christmas day. The only problem was that she didn't know she was supposed to give people gifts for Christmas. So she told them she'd get them all something as well, and just send them by owl later. She'd already planned some of the gifts out; Draco was getting a carved chunk rock she had in one of her rooms, made to look like tiny, roughly shaped snake about the size of a hand. She knew how to charm it to move and hiss when someone went through its owners things from a book in the library, and knowing Draco he'd probably think it was awesome. After he'd sent it to someone to be shined and diamond encrusted, of course. He was still a Malfoy, after all. And she planned to catch some rats and make their skins into a shawl for Luna, because she was sure the dizzying blond girl would look lovely in rat pelt. Snape, she planned to give some hair and fur from the various creatures held in in Azkaban, which she hoped the professor would be pleased with, considering how fond he seemed to be of werewolf hairs in potions.

She'd considered whether or not to get Harry anything, considering their standing as part friend, part that-person-I-obliviated so-he-wouldn't-tell-anyone-about-the-occupants-of-my-bedroom-at-the-time, and decided to give him something normal. Like a familiar, or potions ingredients, or a book on ancient curses, or a shrunken head, just something little like that.

She'd just have find and browse through Knockturn Alley before Christmas to find some other things, she decided. Maybe she could tell Draco, and they could make a day of it?

* * *

Harry sneaked away from his dorm under his invisibility cloak, looking around to make sure no one was around before taking off running down the hall. His friends and all the other boys in his dorm were busy packing to go home, but Harry would be staying at Hogwarts, and he intended to make use of this spare time without his friends breathing down his neck or begging him to come home with them.

He needed this time alone, honestly, because Harry was extremely suspicious, and his friends for some reason weren't. First had come the bloody message on the wall about the chamber of secrets and Ginny Weasley's strange behavior, then the weird gaps in his memory, like how he couldn't remember rushing off with Malfoy and the little first year Slytherin, Elizabetha, but Ron protested that he had. Then again, Ron did have a concussion at the time... Still, though. Now with murderer Sirius Black loose, Harry was sure something dark was up, but Ron and Hermione refused to believe him, insisting that Dumbledore would keep them safe from anything.

So he wasn't exactly sure where he was going to look, but he was determined to find clues and prove to them that something was up. So he ended up on the first floor eventually, walking past a girls bathroom as he looked for anything even remotely suspicious, and he jumped when he heard wailing inside. Harry paused only a moment befrore her followed the sound in, careful to make sure no one saw him going into a _girls_ bathroom. He really didn't want to have to explain his actions.

Inside her followed the wailing to a closed stall, where he heard heavy sniffing and sobbing. It reminded him of Hermione after they had said such mean things to her in his first year, and he swallowed. What if this was another "Hermione" of sorts, in need of comforting?

"Uh- hello?" Harry asked, and instantly something grey lunged through the door. He stumbled back, and fell to the floor, his green eyes wide with terror.

"He killed me!" The grey thing shrieked, and suddenly Harry realized that it was the ghost of a female Hogwarts student, with black pigtails and a scrunched up face.

"Wh-who killed you?" He asked slowly, and her face screwed up even more.

"The thing! With the yellow eyes! And the hissing!" She wailed, and Harry's heart quickened.

"Uh... where is the thing, then? He asked, and she glumly pointed towards the sinks.

"All the hissing." She complained and Harry cautiously started towards the sinks. "And then they killed me."

Harry could see nothing wrong with the sinks, and he was just about to write off the ghost as crazy and turn awy before he noticed that one of the faucets was different then the others. He leaned in for a closer look, and stared when he realized that instead of the simple silver shapes the other faucets held, this one was shaped like a tiny snake head.

"That's where they came from." The ghost whispered from behind him, and he whirled around to find her inches away, looking at him with beady black dead eyes. "He and it. And when they saw me, he hissed to it, and then... death."

Harry swallowed as he looked back to the faucets, his mind racing. Hissed, she said. Like, a parselmouth? Like he and the dark lord, and the heir? Was this... was this where the heir was? The heir, who had opened the chamber of secrets, and had petrified all those people? Who had killed the ghost girl? Who would no doubt kill another?

Harry swallowed again, and gave an experimental hiss. "Open." He said, and jumped back as the faucet obediently folded in on itself, followed by the entire formation of sinks. He hadn't actually thought anything would happen. Yet there, before him in the ground, was an enormous hole in the ground, sinking deep into who knows where. Along the edges he could see scraps of white snakeskin, like a massive snake had passed into the hole while right in the middle of its shedding.

Could this be it? Could this be the entrance to the infamous Chamber of Secrets?

"Well. That was easy. *Bleep* this, in I go!" And Harry jumped.

You'd think that would be a bit rash, wouldn't you? Oh well, he's a Gryffindor, being rash is what those idiots _do_.

* * *

Tom, Jacob, and oddly enough, Nettle, were gone at the moment, leaving Sirius desperately bored and more then a little bit lonely. Mikaela had gone out hunting in Hogsmeade, no doubt sucking the blood from some poor victim at that very moment. Year ago, the thought would have disgusted Sirius, but now he barely shuddered. _Being trapped in Azkaban got me used to so many things_ , he mused. Elizabetha wouldn't be visiting until tomorrow to help them escape the chamber and go to some new home, far away from either Azkaban or Hogwarts, or any other place where they may be recognized and brought back to the prison. So all in all, Sirius was alone in the Chamber for a while, with nothing to do but sit around and reminisce on old events.

He remembered when he'd first met James, and not told him his name for fear that this awesome new _light_ friend of his would reject him just because of his _dark_ family. And how surprised James had been when he was called, and how that surprise had turned to glee when he was sorted into Gryffindor with the other boy, despite being a Black.

He remembered how James had introduced him to all of the people who would later become his best friends, and even later the Marauders, and how happy he'd always been to have such great friends.

He remembered harry being born, how Jame's stag patronus had burst through the wall of his living room and started screaming hysterically about that fact that there was a _baby_ coming out of _Lily_ and whether or not it was possible to be born with glasses, or even worse, _antlers_. And then he'd said that unless Remus brought the striped pillow that Lily liked, she didn't want them to be there. Sirius sent back his own patronus, also screaming, which said "I can see the headlines now: **Godfather not present for birth of best kid _ever_ because sleepy werewolf forgot to bring _that_ pillow.**

He remembered the day James and Lily died, and how he'd screamed over their bodies before swearing revenge on Wormtail, and setting off to find the traitorous rat, only to end up being tricked and throw into prison, accused of murders he never committed. How he had stayed there, cold, angry, and alone for years.

He remembered the first time he had spoken to Elizabetha. She'd been toddling calmly past his cell for several months, never once stopping to speak, usually with one dementor trailing after her. Then one day she was alone, and she paused by his cell, and put her hands on the bars to lean in. "Who dog?" She had cooed, and Sirius had taken that as his cue to shift out of his animagus form, making the little girl jump and her pale blue eyes widen. He'd told her his name, and she'd nodded so _Siriusly_ , and just drank it all up, making his heart ache and his lips twist into a friendly grin. And then the next day she showed up too, and the next, and the next, _and the next_. It took him an amazingly long time to discover her name, or why she was here, but once he did he couldn't stop repeating it, or find it in himself to wish she was somewhere else. Sure, Azkaban was no place for a child, but he'd been stuck in there for years by then, and was more then willing to be a little bit selfish if it meant he could get some company.

He was still willing to be a little bit selfish for some company.

As if his wish had come true, Sirius heard the grating of rock against rock that meant the chambers door sliding open, and he stood up eagerly, ready to talk and play like the ten-year-old trapped in a thirty-year-old's body that he was.

And what he saw made him freeze.

There, in the enterance, stood a boy who looked a lot like James. Well, he was much younger then James last Sirius had seen him, and he didn't have James' eyes. No, he had Lily's eyes. And they filled with hate the moment they met gazes. But still. He looked almost exactly like Sirius' best friend.

"Harry..."

xXx

I understand that this has been way too long since I updated, but I don't want to lie to you, so honestly? I got distracted. I ended up writing four other stories instead, ranging in length from 2,000 words to almost 20,000, and totally ignored this one. And none of them are quite finished yet, either. So updates will still be slow. I'm sorry.

Also, a friend of mine was visiting me, and she suddenly got this serious look, and announced "I'm ready to read Harry Potter slash. What do you recommend?" And she's never read slash before. So the conversation went kind of like this:

"Okay, what kind do you want to read?"

"Dark."

"... how dark are we talking here? Like, Dysonrules Dark, Lastcrazyhorn Dark, Tiro Dark, or full out Katsitting Dark? Because there is a lot of difference here."

And she just looked really confused and asked what I meant, and I realized that people probably never realize that there are different levels to this stuff. It's all different, and I imagine if you start right off reading "Anima Animus" you are going to be slightly traumatized.

So if anyone wonders, here are "The Basic Different Levels of Dark" in HP slash fics, named after on some of my favorite writers:

Dysonrules Dark: If there is such a thing as a light-dark, this is it. Usually Slytherin characters, occasional unrequited love, some lemons, and main character death every now and then. Lots of Drarry, mostly.

Lastcrazyhorn Dark: Harry... has some issues. Like, _major issues_. Abandonment issues, missing limbs, suicidal tendencies, he's overly lustful, really paranoid; this is where you start to bridge the gap into the madder side of fanfic. Plus much Drarry and Snarry. (SnapexHarry. Yes, this is an actual ship. Yes, it is _awesome_.)

Tiro Dark: Saying "Oh, look! Harry went dark within the first year and just killed all his friends after going insane, and each death is increasingly more gruesome then the last! And Oh! Look at that! He is now *Insert random male character's name here* underage lover! Splendid!" Basically sums up this level. All sorts of pairings.

Katsitting Dark: "I'm messing heavily with consent" is basically this level's motto. Like... wow. I didn't even know you could use the imperius curse like that until I read a few stories like this. Tomarry, usually, for the obvious reason of how could a Tomarry fic be any other way? It involves a baby Voldemort, it literally _cannot_ be light. So basically, just look up TomxHarry and almost every single fic that pops up will be in this level.

Thank you all for reading, please review, and byeeeeeee!


	26. He's a Legacy

Omake, because I couldn't get this out of my head:

There, in the entrance, stood a boy who looked a lot like James. Well, he was much younger then James last Sirius had seen him, and he didn't have James' eyes. No, he had Lily's eyes. And they filled with hate the moment they met gazes. But still. He looked almost exactly like Sirius' best friend.

"Harry..."

"Constant vigilance!" Harry loudly proclaimed, before slamming the door to the entrance behind him and beginning to hobble towards Sirius, one emerald green eye rolling in the opposite direction of the other, which was still firmly focused on Sirius.

"M-Moody?!" Sirius screeched. "What are you doing in Harry's body?!"

"Nothing like a nighttime stroll to give you ideas!" Came the proud reply.

" _That makes no sense_!"

* * *

Harry stared at the man before him, heart stuttering in his chest and mind practically screaming at him to run. He recognized him, of course. From all the wanted posters he'd seen when he, Ron and Hermione had sneaked out on a Hogsmeade weekend, hiding under the invisibility cloak, to eager to see the little village then wait another year. The tangled black hair, the sloppily trimmed beard, the insane glimmer in his eyes that almost matched the little Slytherin girl, Elizabetha's.

This was Sirius Black.

The man who betrayed his parents.

The man who he'd vowed to kill.

So logically, he started casting spells.

* * *

Elizabetha was _so_ happy today. So very, _very_ happy. She was going home, to Azkaban, today! It was in every way a happy day! And wasn't that just strange? Since when was Elizabetha ever really happy? Or was she always happy, and she just hadn't noticed it yet? Either way, her insides were bouncing just as much as he outsides as she hopped up stairs two at a time on her way to bathroom that housed the entrance to the chamber of secrets, on her way to go spend some time with Sirius and the others before they would be sneaking out of the school that night to go find somewhere more appropriate to hide as they plotted against the ministry. She had no clue why they had decided to do such a thing in the first place, but Elizabetha was pretty sure that plotting against the ministry must be a good thing, if Sirius was doing it, and only made him promise to ask her for help if he needed it before leaving them to it.

If nothing else, the papers this last month or so had been most amusing as they were splashed with obituaries and dramatic theories about the recent rise in deaths, not to mention all the scandals unearthed. They were such a great read that she's cut out a few of the articles to hand in her rooms at home.

"Oh! Home!" Elizabetha sang aloud, her raspy voice bouncing against the walls of the empty hall and grating the words right back over at her. Elizabetha was all but skipping by the time she skidding to a stop by the bathroom, parading inside with a happy smirk on her small face and echoes all around her.

She'd already packed. All her stuff was sitting on her bed, ready to go. All she had to do was leave.

Until she noticed that the entrance was already open, and she hadn't even said the new password that Tom had given her yet.

 _Was someone else coming to the chamber today?_ She wondered as she walked closer. It was a perfectly reasonable solution, only... not many of her friends even knew how to get it. In fact, only _one_ other knew the new password. And Ginny had already left on the first train.

But then she noticed a pile of something silvery laying by the sink, and her stomach sank as she remembered something Sirius had once told her.

About how he and his friends, James Potter, Peter Pettigrew, and Remus Lupin, used to sneak around under James' invisibility cloak, a starred, silvery thing, snooping and causing pranks, like the year they had made Filch think Mr. Norris was swearing at him, when really in was just the four Gryffindors under the cloak.

And more importantly, how the cloak was passed down from father to son.

And sure enough, when she held the thing up, the hand she held it in disappeared.

Harry Potter had found the Chamber of Secrets.

And that included her secret family, too.

Oh dear.

* * *

Sirius Black was nothing if not loyal. He'd adored James, and later on, Lily too. The two had all but stolen his heart when they were still children, James pranking and begging the other for a date and Lily endlessly studying and rejecting every single offer James made. They had been such wonderful people, and when they'd finally ended up together, it was... sad. It was like losing something. The bit of their childhood where everything was always the same.

But it had still made him indescribably happy to see them smiling at each other with love in their eyes.

And he was nothing, if not loyal to those smiles.

Which was why he'd gone after Peter. Dirty, traitorous Peter Pettigrew, who sold out Jam and Lils and ruined everything.

He'd wanted to prove his loyalty, even in their death. He'd wanted to avenge them.

 _See how that had turned out, huh_. Sirius often though. It had failed, utterly, totally _failed_. Backfired spectacularly, backfired like hell. He'd done the exact opposite of proving his loyalty; he'd betrayed it. He'd gotten himself arrested and left nothing of them except for little Harry, who was promptly taken away by Hagrid on Sirius' bike.

And Merlin, was Harry a _legacy_.

Especially now, when he was attacking Sirius, fire in Lily's eyes and James' hair sticking out like something alive with rage, and Sirius' heart was _breaking, breaking, breaking._

 _Even now, Harry was their legacy._

* * *

Elizabetha reached the Chamber just as it happened. Just as Harry screamed an explosion spell with his wand pointed up and rocks showered down from the ceiling, right onto Sirius, crushing him underneath a flurry of dust and stone and drowning out any noises he might have made in a cacophony of crashes before Elizabetha could even properly draw her wand.

And she was too late to stop it.

She wasn't able to even move, let alone start casting spells, as the dust cleared and she could just see a hand poking out from the rock, twisted and broken and ghastly and needy and- and- and reaching towards Harry.

No.

No no no no no no no no no no no no no no no.

Oh, please, _NO_.

And Elizabetha wasn't even sure what was happening, but she was crying.

She didn't even cry.

She was too old to cry.

Yet- this was cry-worthy, she decided, as she stared as the mangled hand that was all that was visible of her Siri, and Harry, who had just noticed her, and was starting towards her with surprise in his eyes, asking her what she was doing there.

And she looked away, looked down, because it was _all. So. Wrong._ Not how it was supposed to go. She'd been so _happy_. She was going _home_. To _Azkaban_. And Sirius and the others, Nettle, Mika, Jacob and Tom, they were going to be free, and plot against the ministry, and be happy, and she would visit them over break, and they would send her a Christmas present, and it was supposed to be right. Not wrong. Not ever, ever wrong. Especially not this wrong.

Harry had reached her now, and reached out a hand to her shoulder, shaking her a little. "Are you okay, Elizabetha?" He murmured, and no, _no,_ Sirius' murderer didn't get to sound so nice and caring. Not to her.

She honestly couldn't decide why she was so upset. She'd seen people die before. So many people die. It was perfectly normal. But... not her Sirius dying, that wasn't normal at all. He was like a father, a brother, a friend. Mao had been a friend, and Madam Crouch a mother, but Siri was everything. And everything's simply weren't supposed to die. And certainly not when she'd just been so happy.

"I hate you." She gasped, because suddenly, it was so hard to breath, and she could still feel herself crying, and the tears absolutely burned as they ran down from her eyes and over the dark spots and her cheeks. Why hadn't anyone ever mention that crying hurt this much? Or that it was this hard to get air in? Why didn't anyone ever tell her these things? Or had Sirius told her these things? She was pretty sure he had. He could be appealingly emotional at times.

Or at least he could have been.

Harry gasped right back. "What? Why?" He asked, shaking her a bit, and Elizabetah finally managed to make herself look at him and his disgustingly concerned face.

"Get your hands off me." _They're the hands that killed Sirius._ "And never look at me again. Or I swear to Merlin, I will kill you." And she shoved him away from her, and left. She didn't even look back. She was sure she couldn't bear to.

Harry Potter was definitely _not_ getting a Christmas gift from her this year.

* * *

Huh. I've never written character death. It was _waaaaay_ too hard. I'm still not sure about this either, it seems pretty flat, but I wanted to do _something_ with this story. I feel so guilty about not putting anything up recently. So... Siruis' death? You're welcome? I don't think anyone really cares, but nonetheless, Elizabetha does, so I'm justified in giving this a whole chapter. It's when she finally goes off the deep end a bit. That and Luna's, but that's a while from now. At least three chapters. Does she seem at least slightly crazy? I was trying to make it so that her though process was a bit confused, but I think Elizabetha's actually pretty logical, so it's hard. Granted, her logic is twisted at times, but she's not completely random.

Notenoughbookshelves: _Oh, I'm always either in Slytherin or Ravenclaw. But I wish I could say Slytherin and Hufflepuff, because Puffs are awesome. I'm pretty sure they're the only half decent people in the series. Like let's face it, in the books almost all Gryffindora are reckless idiots, all Ravenclaws bookworms or Luna, (Who's in a class of her own) and all Slytherins are pretty much jerks._

 _And don't worry, Ren's in Ravenclaw himself. In fact, only one of my brothers has ever once gotten Gryffindor on a test, and he's usually Slytherin too, so. (How that even happens that he could be both, I do not know.) We're just in general not that brave a family, I guess._

Please review, thanks to you all for reading this terrible chapter, and byeeeee!


	27. Being So Bad (Sad)

The death of Sirius Black, accused murderer and Death Eater, passed rather smoothly. Black's body was carried away and the Chamber of Secrets explored and looted for any artifacts of historical importance, and then quickly sealed, and Harry's memories were called for, and given. They tried to get Elizabetha's as well, since she was the only other witness of the event, but she sent a reply to their letter saying that she refused to take any part in their investigation, and, oddly enough, that she hoped they were ashamed of themselves. The next day the papers ran the story, albeit a rather distorted version, painting Harry Potter as the hero who had discovered the Chamber and saved the public from the imfamous Sirius Black. It was old news within weeks, and life simply moved on, as life is wont to do.

Yet a few mourned him. The remaining prisoners of Azkaban, both those escaped and on the run, and those still there. A small group of Slytherin and Ravenclaw Hogwarts students, now home for the holidays. A werewolf who used to be his best friend.

And a little girl sat in her room on her cot for days, crying for the first time in her life as she suddenly realized that some deaths just have no reason or cause.

And that those ones are the worst.

* * *

When Ginny saw Elizabetha for their next year at Hogwarts, she knew that her best friend had changed drastically.

They met at the train station before boarding. Elizabetha was alone, which now that Ginny knew where she came from, made obvious sense. Having dementors dropping off a student each year would cause quite the fuss. But still... seeing her skinnier-then-ever-before friend standing there, all alone, pale skin gone ashen, dressed in a ruffled black dress with puffy sleeves and a white collar, curly honey hair in dry and tangled ringlets and her icy emotionless eyes surrounded by even darker circles then before, Ginny got a very distinct impression.

Elizabetha looked like death. Like someone had scraped what little flesh she had previously away from her tiny bones and replaced her eyes with tinted white glass, then drawn under them with a muggle sharpie and thrown her limp body into a cute dress in a pathetic attempt to make her seem normal again. And it did the exact opposite. The black silk just served as the shroud she lacked.

So Ginny went over and gave her a hug.

Because she looked like she really needed one.

When they reached Hogwarts, and entered the great hall to sit at the Slytherin table, she noticed Elizabetha glaring at the other houses, especially Gryffindor, but Ginny just wrote it off as Elizabetha being her usual strange self. She'd always been somewhat fickle.

It soon became obvious that it was not that simple. Because over the next few weeks, Elizabetha became a bully. It wasn't blatantly obvious, in fact Ginny sometimes had to look to see it, and the only reason she had noticed herself was because Luna had mentioned it one day during a free period when Elizabetha was off wandering. But sure enough, Ginny noticed once she was looking out for it. The way that suddenly Gryffindors left and right were finding their things ripped to pieces in a way that Ginny knew only Elizabetha did. The way her blond friend was suddenly pushing others in the halls. The way she snapped and snarled and glared whenever someone not in her circle attempted to even speak to her.

Elizabetha had never been the most accepting of slights. She wasn't one of those people who took a laugh directed her way graciously, or an offense against her friends with no action. So her new actions blended in, somewhat. But now she needed little to no prompting to lash out. A single look could set her off against a perceived threat that wasn't really there.

Not to mention that she was now more likely to kick a cat then to coo over it, much to Ginny's and, oddly enough, Draco's, horror.

* * *

Ginny or Luna weren't the only ones to be watching Elizabetha. Harry had been too, not that he really told anyone. Goodness knows Hermione would make a fuss if she knew, considering her last run-in with the little Slytherin.

Ever since that night in the chamber, he'd become fascinated with the girl. Why was she there? Why had she been so upset? Why had she refused to give her memories, and said those things in her letter? During the time he had stayed at Hogwarts over Christmas, he had gone around asking everyone who he could find what they thought of her, as subtly as he could.

Ron, of course, thought she was a monster, probably because of his earlier head trauma caused by the little girl, not to mention how she had "snatched" Ginny.

Yet, the more Harry had asked, the more he found out that people generally thought she was okay, or at least the ones who didn't immediately discount her as being a Slytherin and therefore evil, had.

Minerva admitted she was good in her class.

The twins said they kind of admired her for the stuff she pulled.

Moaning Myrtle, of all people, or ghosts, had told him Elizabetha was polite, and brought her rotting fruit to eat sometimes.

Snape had sneered at Harry, but practically sang the girl's praises the moment her name was mentioned, albeit in a very Snape-ish way.

Even Dumbledore had said Elizabetha had a lot of potential to be good.

 _So why was she being so bad_ , Harry wondered as he watched the skinny little blond girl snap and snarl at a Hufflepuff. Her pale eyes had finally came to life, the sad dead look banished and replaced with glittering anger as she raged at the quivering boy in black and yellow. Behind her stood a sneering Malfoy and Zabini, and a boy with freckles and a severe look of annoyance, Ginny and Luna absent from her side for once.

"How dare you?!" Elizabetha shrieked hoarsely. Her voice was terrible, like screeching tires and nails on a blackboard.

"I'm sorry! What did I do? I'm so sorry!" The Hufflepuff boy wailed, looking immensely confused but trying to remedy the situation nonetheless, becasue that's what Hufflepuffs did. They were obsessive peacekeepers.

"How dare you dishonor his memory! Take back what you said!" Elizabetha ordered, and the boy hurriedly mumbled something about Sirius Black in reply before scurrying off. Harry's eyes narrowed. What was with this girl and Sirius Black? She had been there the night he killed the monster of a man too, and now she was defending him?

There had to be a connection.

Time to go talk to Dumbledore.

* * *

People! Look! An update! Ahahaha... I'm so sorry. I know, this is terrible of me. It's not even that long. I'm sorry. I miss updating every other day.

But uh... if it's any comfort, I'm almost finished with what has been taking up my time. Just a few more paragraphs and it will be up under the title "Dark Magic and Tea Parties." And even if you don't play Boarderlands, or get all the references, I promise it's fairly understandable regardless. And I posted "Eggshell Minds," so if you like stories where a character has to live their life all over again, you might like it? Please? I want to write another chapter of it, but nobody's reading it, and I'm not going to if nobody is going to appreciate it.

That's all, and since you're part of why I got out of my funk, thank you to all my reviewers, especially you, TomRiddlesTwin. I think the realization that someone who is related to Tom Riddle is reading this really perked me up! Possibly because of my not-so-minor obsession with him...

Anyhow, thank you all for reading this mess, have a great day, and byeeeeeeee!


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